For the Love of Golden Eyes
by MinstrelBoy
Summary: Five long years later, Naota leaves Earth in search of the spirit that defined his youth.
1. Hold on Tight to Your Dreams

When his alarm went off, Naota was staring at the ceiling, watching the slowly lightening shadows. He lazily climbed out of bed and shut off the alarm. There was no rush. Deep blue light spilled into the room, diffused by the curtains. He picked his way over the piles of junk on the floor, casting but a quick glance the dark pre-dawn shadow under the window. Haruko's bass had lain quiet for five years and lately he had stopped bothering to wipe the dust off. He had waited for her, of course. At first, certain she would come back at any minute for some new adventure, like she had said. But time passed, assurance became concern, fear, desperation, anger, acceptance. There was no next time. She was just sparing the feelings of a stupid kid. It made perfect sense now that he didn't have to live through it.

His school uniform laying sloppily over his lean frame, Naota picked up his bag from the space where Canti used to sit. The robot had wandered off two years ago while buying cigarettes. At the time, the idea of a robot with a smoking problem made no sense, but the Lord of the Black Flame seemed to miss his sole apostle. Without waking the rest of the family, Naota slipped out of the house and into the morning fog of Mabase.

He wandered through the darkened streets lethargically. There was nothing out there worth hurry. Mabase was still asleep, and for a moment he could revel in the tranquil solitude. There was no one else here, so he owned the town by default. Presently, he found himself on the Mamimi's old bridge. He imagined he could almost smell the lingering tobacco. Halfway through the span, he stopped to look out down the river. The dark shape of the Medical Meccanica building was still there, resting on an angle. The lights had long gone out, the siren's tone a distant memory, the smoke forgotten. No one mentioned the plant anymore, they didn't even seem to see it.

The sound of a motor bike engine glided up from behind him. Nao' didn't react. A motorbike sneaking up on him no longer stirred any fear in his gut. Or excitement. The headlight caught and refracted in the water droplets hanging around him. He glanced over his arm to show he had no reason not to look at a passing motorbike. The bike passed him without giving up any details of the rider. The engine changed pitch and faded.

By the time Naota met Ninmori in front of her house, the morning mist had burned off, and Mabase had woken up. "Good morning, Naota." She greeted, blowing past him in confidence he would follow. He let her pass before falling in beside her leisurely.

"Morning, dear." He replied, letting himself sound tired. "Now, we have a long day ahead. Two tests, physics and literature, plus student council after school. So hurry it up." She ordered, never looking back.

"You're student council president, not me. Why am I there again?" Nao' wondered fruitlessly. Ninimori hadn't slown down at all since entering high school, quickly conquering every clique and club her ambitions fell on, and that included Naota.

"Because, for one it wouldn't be right for the President to be single. And as a leader, people need to see I have the support of my boyfriend." She had made her intentions clear Freshman year, and he had seen no strong reason not go along. And he couldn't deny she was an attractive girl.

Nao' shook his head. "Taking lessons from you father again"

"After the old man managed to get reelected after that affair business? I'd be crazy not too"

Naota nodded. "It was a fucked up year, least of all because of the affair"

"I don't know what you're talking about, the affair is the only thing I can remember from that year." Ninimori steam rolled ahead. "Now, physics was always one of your subjects, so I'll need you to text me the answers." She didn't notice the slight falter in Naota's step.

"You don't remember anything else from that year? Nothing extraordinary or amazing?" He asked warily. She stopped, turning around to glare at him.

"Don't be childish Naota, why would anything amazing happen to us? And what makes you think I wouldn't remember it?" Ninimori was surprised at the thoughtful way Naota looked at her, like he was looking inside her head for the first time.

"Nothing, forget it dear." He said looking away.

A lecture on advanced mathematics. Naota sat almost horizontally in his chair at the rear of the class. It takes only a few moments for the teacher's words to fade into the dull murmur, like a pond too stagnant to erode any new wrinkles in his brain. His buddy Masashi elbowed him in the side. "Jeez, why can't you pay attention in any class? I mean, I know I don't, but I'm a godamn genius. Your grades, however, aren't really inspiring me"

"I don't know really." Naota said, gazing out the window. "I guess it just doesn't seem important compared to the rest of the stuff going on in the world."

"Oh? Stuff like what?"

Nao' shrugged. "Like.. diseases and famines and wars and such." And astral beings stealing worlds and giant irons killing free thought he added mentally. "Hey.. do you remember anything from 6th grade"

"6th grade? Can't say that I do.."

After school he walked Ninimori home. Her parents were out on a political function. They made time in her parent's bedroom. He left after she made it clear she had work to do.

He started toward home in a grey light. The roof overhead had closed off the sun, and promised rain. Something light, with no lightening or thunder to entertain.

He dreaded this part of the day. No school, no Ninimori to act as a distraction. Nothing but time to think before he fell asleep. Before he reached the end of the block, the familiar stirring creature in his gut began to pace, spreading quiet desperation with each step.

Haroku had gone, and she had taken the outside world with her. No, not the world. The universe. There was nothing left here except a safe, normal life as a sane member of society. But that was no longer possible.

He spent many nights wondering about the effect those four months had on him, but could be sure of one thing. Ever since she left, polite society was no longer a source of normalcy for him, it was a prison cell. Every day he lived pretending there was nothing extraordinary out there, the stronger the lock became.

Haruko, Canti, Medical Meccanica.. Lately he had come think of them of something of a dream. A dream that changed him irreversibly, but a dream none the less. No one remembered them, no one seemed to care. And if he was the only one who remembered, what did that leave him with besides a guitar he couldn't play? A hairline fracture between him and the world. Like a glacier about to fall off an ice flow.

The creature in his gut flexed its claws. Either they were real or Mabase was. There was no middle ground. Urgency and fear began to seep into his lungs. He could see the cold grey sky. He couldn't see them, their faces indistinct in his recollection. He stood in front of his house and fought down the urge to just keep walking. Nothing amazing happened here. Except, now it was true.

Dinner. Mild Curry. His best efforts to find the legendary Little Prince Curry brand had been thwarted. He couldn't even find anything spicy enough to taste good. His father was holding a lecture about some anime again.

"And so he had to die, so that his brother could become the lead character.." He stated emphatically. Naota braced himself to ask a question he already knew the answer to.

"Hey Dad, do you remember that house keeper we had a while ago"

Kamon looked surprised at the interruption. "House keeper? We've never had enough money for a house keeper, Nao'." He turned back to his dissertation. "Now, the real symbolism is in the drill.."

Naota rolled into bed, unexhausted by the day. Hands behind his head, he stared at the ceiling. The quiet dark of his room was the only place he could be sure she had existed, hear her voice, feeling her weight in the bunk above his. Outside his windows, the stars floated brightly in that great dark ocean. One shone brighter than all the others. He reached out and tried to grasp it in his hand. When he lowered his hand it was still there. Nothing Amazing.

When he slept, he dreamt of a girl with golden eyes.

You haven't been practicing, have you Takun? She loomed above him, eyes filled with mischief. I don't want to, it's stupid. A hand clutching a beer can pointed at him. You gotta learn, Takun. Why? I'm not gonna play, it's embarrassing! She grabbed his arm and hauled him up the steps. I swear your brain really is gone, nothing in there but junker robots.

World blurs, the scene changes. She's across the room, and there's a hint of some melancholy in her eyes he can't begin to understand. What did she say? You're the one I saw first, Takun. The phrase plays itself out again and again until it forms a smooth groove in his mind. Blur, change.

You don't understand Takun, you have to learn. If you don't you can't do anything! She explains in exasperation, sitting down the on bed next to him. His guitar smooth and still unfamiliar in his hands. You don't make any sense! It's just a guitar! She leans in close, alcohol on her breath, grinning conspirtarly. Hey. If you promise to practice, I'll tell you secret.. Blur, change.

Waking slowly, unfamiliar scent in his nose. Eyes open, something soft and pink filling his view. Aware of the warmth and the arm draped across him before he understood. Somehow thinking it wasn't right, lingering only a precious, too short moment. You looked cold, she grinned evilly. Was she mocking him? It didn't matter. Shift, blur. A voice sounding clear in the maelstrom of shifting memories, like a voice in the eye of a hurricane.

Okay, but don't tell anyone. It's all real real secret, Takun. Ever hear of String Theory? No? Hokay. 'Slike this. She slurred slightly. First, accept that Time and Space are in fact things that could be interacted with. Okay. Accept it? Accept it! Alright. Now. If you could bend them enough, you would see the grain, what they're made of. Strings, one dimensional objects. Strings not unlike.. a single bass note reverberated through his brain.

Thousands of tiny strings shot out from the blur of lights, twisting and assembling into his fingers. His hand took shape, and the wires corkscrewed to form the muscles in his arm. The strings tightened and pulled him into the wall of the hurricane.

The unmistakable pressure of being inside Canti. Connections are made, the light above his head blinks on. Staring at a Medical Meccanica robot through the rifled barrel. No fear, no thoughts but the urge to explode out, smiling, and relieve the pressure. The time has come and the world rushes by and the wind in his face and he is unleashed and there is only the urge to keep accelerating until he breaks through the speed of light itself. And she is warm behind him and the Vespa is loud, drowning out the waves below the road. The sun is setting and the gold light is drawn in and purified in her eyes. The strings tug on his completed arm and he flies back into the storm.

Disoriented, but the voice continues uninterrupted. If you know how to play, how to manipulate the strings, things change. Like mebbe Acceleration isn't Change in Velocity over Change in Time anymore, but Change in Velocity times Half over Change in Time, ya see? No? Lemmie put it this way.. In this guitar is the ability to alter every constant and function you know. Learn it and you can do the impossible, see the invisible. A million wires bind together, forming legs, organs, a torso. He can feel every nerve and muscle, trillions of parts united with a single purpose for the first time. He smiles even if there is nothing to smile with. The strings spiral together to form his heart. But something is changing, strings of a different color fly toward him from every direction and wrap around his heart, squeezing. His chest is finished and he can no longer see but only feel the pressure.

And another twinge upwards and he breaks into the wall once more. He rips himself from Canti, his body glowing red with NO and fire scalding his veins. The pressure on his heart increases as he knocks the terminal core into the air. The strings controlling and comprising his body pull him at breakneck speeds through the air towards her. Guitar in hand, they crash together and are knocked apart. Again and again they strike, circling each other, being knocked apart less each time. He can hear her voice, echoing through time and space and mind to reach him.

Of course, the you can't change the entire universe that easily. It only applies to you, or things you have a strong connection to. Some say even people. His heart was in a vice, but still he fought on, desperate to be done before the fist around his heart clenched shut. They shot through the air. The strings in control of his body guiding him, like a fish in a river. Propelled by fear of the crushing squeeze on his heart, he strikes and her bass flies out of her grasp.

You know what I'm saying to you Takun? That it can only alter things you give a part of yourself to?

She waits for his next move. Every cell and every fiber in his body pull him toward her, toward this one, specific moment in time and nowhere else. His heart struggles weakly against its cage.

Takun.. This guitar.

He stops in front of her. Gold eyes blaze with a glorious madness. This guitar is.

He leans forward and kisses her. The strings around his heart clench shut, and he is done.

This guitar is.. A world away on the edge of his bed she smiles wickedly as the trap is sprung. This guitar is.. The wires that built his body explode. YOUR SOUL!

The siren's yell penetrated his brain and ripped him back into the real world. Naota shot upright and swung out of bed without a pause. "No way, no way in hell!" He said hopefully, bounding out to the balcony. The red lights glittered on top of the Medical Meccanica plant! Thick smoke rolled outward and over everything in its path. Triumphant laughter erupted from Naota's throat.

With out a second thought he got dressed in a hoody and jeans and slung Haruko's bass over his back. An insane grin on his face, he sprinted from his room to the balcony that over looked Mabase. He leapt on to the rail and stood with his back to the world. With his arms open, he let himself fall into the fog.

He fell for what seemed like minutes before his feet hit the pavement. Laughing merrily, like a prisoner making his escape, he sprinted into the smoke.

When he stopped for breath, the smoke around him thickened until it was almost solid, then was blown away. Two men in disdainfully worn suits stood in front of him, eyes invisible behind large orange aviators. "Look at this kid, has his guitar ready and everything. He knows what's up, man." The closest one said, nodding. His partner smiled.

"Toold you the file on him was right. He probably knew before we even showed up"

Naota eyed them like a child expecting a Christmas gift. "So, are we going soon?" He asked simply.

The first suit laughed. "Hiiiigh speed man. Even knows what we're up to. Downright motivating." He checked his watch. "Well, if you don't need us to explain it, I guess we can grab the ship out in Babylon and sky out whenever"

"Let's go"

"Hold on man, got some legal nonsense to take care of." Suit 2 said, reading from a folded piece of paper. "Do you, Naota Nandaba, acknowledge that if you agree to come with, you cannot bid goodbye or contact anyone who previously knew you in anyway"

Naota nodded. "And my family?" He asked.

The suit threw the piece of paper away lazily. The scrap went up in a small explosion as soon as it hit the ground. "People disappear all the time. Besides, like they're gonna find your ass. Ready"

Naota adjusted the sling on the bass and nodded. "Yeah, let's go." Suit number two walked up and placed his hand on Naota's head. "Say fair well to home, kid. No one can follow where you're headed." He said, pushing his glasses up on his face.

"See you in hell!" Naota promised to the empty streets. There was a short, barking laugh, and all three disappeared in a pulse of red light in the fog.

"This life's a game. Let's play for higher stakes." - Ben Nichols - Tobin


	2. Space Trucking

A day ago Naota had been just a bored high school student with faint memories of a time when something incredible had brushed against his life. Now he was in a room that looked almost like a cockpit with two men more interested in the monitors in front of them than him.  
"Alllright," the shorter of the two said, doing some rough calculations on a yellow legal pad. "We're gonna be set on a direct-ish azimuth in about.. 15 minutes, dig"  
"I can dig it." Suit number two said, flipping two over head switches. "Right ascension, 3 hours, 47 minutes and twenty four seconds. Declination, 24.7 degrees. Give me a distance we can pull for this shot"  
More scratching on the legal pad. "Uh, let's try 440 light years, point-three-four-six by ten to the negative 15. Should put us somewhere in the general area. Bring this bitch in manually from there"  
"Got it." Suit #2 began to play with some dials. "Pushing back Celeritas to 10 to the twentieth, gravitational constant down to about .02"  
The first suit shook his head. " All the way to .02? You fucking pussy"  
Number 2, who Naota assumed was the pilot, didn't look up from his fine adjustment of the instruments. "First off, this isn't a damn hot rod. It's a local bucket of bolts that someone was kind enough to throw life support in and bury in the desert in the strong off chance this shitty little back water ever required anything moved." He looked back at Naota. "No offense, kid. It would probably rip apart if we encountered any fucked up gravitational fields. Hell, that monster they got sitting outside the belt would probably rip us to pieces"  
Number 1 scoffed. "Monster my ass! That's what you get for coming from The Center. Assuming everything is a fucked up physics problem without room to grow"  
The pilot glanced at his watch. "Awww, quit your bitchin' and tell me what's in our way will ya?" Ignored, Naota sat silently in the back, taking careful note of every impossibility they discussed, and remembered a speech he had dismissed as drunken rambling years ago.  
His buddy glanced at a screen. "Not a damn thing but some small rocks the computer should take us around"  
The pilot nodded. "Grooovy. Transorbital path clear in three. Where we getting the energy from"  
Number one grinned. "Let the kid do it"  
"What, with the bass? Shit man, that's just a rumor." The pilot blanched.  
"Hey, you're the one who was going on about how the file had to be correct, and besides I heard this from a reputable source. Let's see if he can do it"  
"Alright man.. You're gonna get us killed, but fuck it. Hey, kid. Can you use that bass"  
Naota shook his head. "Alright, that's cool. You'll learn. What I need you to do is plug this into it." He said, feeding a wire into the back seat. "Okay.." Naota said, sliding it in with a click.  
"Yeah, number one. Just like that. Now, if you'd kindly place your finger on the top string, fourth fret.. Yeah, you got it man. Right, when I tell you, pluck that string"  
"Yeah, sure. I can handle that"  
"Groovy. Two minutes"  
"Hey, where are we going anyway?" Nao' wondered.  
"The Pleiades. Space MEPS is up there. They'll start the beurocratic bullshit when you get there. 1 minute." The pilot explained, hitting a few switches. "You know how many large, constantly burning nuclear reactions are in a cluster like Pleiades that could fuck us right up if we mess this up?" He asked of his companion.  
The navigator just grinned. "Fag. Have a little faith, eh"  
"Thirty seconds"  
Naota sat back in his seat, counting down the seconds in his head. He was in what he assumed was a space ship of some kind that he had never seen from the outside, with these two morons at the controls, and he was somehow suppose to make it fly with a guitar. The whole situations was far too abstract for him to fear the aforementioned fiery space death, but he wasn't immune to the tension he felt in the two pilots.  
A series of soft raps sounded on the other side of the wall beside him, sounding almost like a drummer counting time.  
"Ten." Naota closed his eyes and listened only to the timing, finger curled below the string, ready to go.  
"Five. You ready kid"  
"Yeah"  
"Three"  
Naota blocked out everything but the gentle rhythmic tapping outside.  
"Two." Suit number one was silently slapping his leg in time with something only he heard.  
"One." Naota struck before the pilot had the chance to reach the end of the countdown. The chord resonated throughout the cramped ship. A dull roar of the same pitch filled the air behind him. The forces of gravity pushed him back in his seat, constricting his throat. The bass sat heavy and warm in his lap, the blood pulsing through the string under his finder.  
"Wait, what?" Naota asked, but was interrupted by the sudden jolt at the end of acceleration and normalization of gravity. The pilot reached down and flipped a switch on the dash. The gauges and switches in front of him retracted into the ceiling. Naota's eyes widened in awe of the spectacle ahead of him. All the stars in the sky were laid bare before him, and as far as he was concerned not one of them was out of his reach.  
"Rear windows open, too. If you want to see home kid, you don't have long." The navigator informed him, peering at the gauges left. Naota never looked back. Satisfied, the navigator sat back in his seat. "Wooo, told you that shit was true! Roche limit passed in under a hundredth of a second. And the ships holding up fine too. Told you we had nothing to worry about"  
The pilot relented. "Allright, you got lucky this time. What's this put us at, three hours"  
"Uh huh"  
"Fuck it, might as well enjoy the time away." The pilot said, reaching under the seat and handing something to the navigator. He turned around and held out a tall boy for Naota too. "Here you go kid, you're gettin' us there, you earned it"  
"Thank you, uh.. sir?" Naota said, cracking the top unsurely.  
"Sir, hell!" The pilot exclaimed. "I'm Baby Cakes, the ugly mother fucker in the seat next to me is Ogre. Naturally not our real names, but out here nick names are a lot faster"  
Ogre leaned over to shake his hand good naturedly. "Good to meet ya, kid. You got some potential in that thing"  
"Naota Nandaba. Um, why exactly are we going where we're going?" He asked.  
Ogre looked over at his companion. "You wanna field that one?" Baby Cakes shook his head.  
"Hell, even I don't know exactly what they want with him"  
"Yeah, but we can't let him sit in the dark all trip only to get some fucked up Lifer answer"  
"Good point." Baby Cakes turned back to Naota. "Alright my man, let me try and do this simply. Me and Ogre are Technical Sergeants with the Galactic Space Police Brotherhood. Being that neither of us is a parade ground discipline kind of guy and they have nothing more dangerous for us to do at the moment, we're sorta intersystem curiours. Someone sent our boss a file about you and orders to bring you up for consideration for membership in the Brotherhood, based on your previous actions"  
"And by actions, you mean.." Naota began.  
"Yeah. That. You pulled some serious shit, you know that? They want you bad. Something's up in The Center, they're looking for a lot of kids with NO to sign up, but as far as I know, you're the first from a Uncontacted World"  
"Uncontacted?" Naota asked, taking a sip of beer with out realizing what he was doing.  
"Uncontacted. Planets that still haven't found any intelligent life other than themselves. Usually the Galactic Assembly keeps a lid on contacting them, but someone always misses the memo.." Baby Cakes said, rubbing his head.  
"What this means for you, is that we'll take you to a medical processing station, they'll get you ready for life in space, then talk to you about your duty to the galaxy or some stupid crap. Basically they mean join us or go back home." Ogre said, draining his beer.  
"I'm not going back to Earth." Naota said fiercely.  
"Godamn it, this kid motivates me!" Ogre exclaimed.

Near the end of the trip, Naota could make out what they were headed for. A light as bright as a star, but many times larger and inconstantly lit, like a lantern hung in the sky. The two GSPB Officers began to make adjustments to the controls in front of them.  
"Hey, that's where we're headed, right?" Naota asked, pointing.  
"Yeahp. Pleiades Cluster Medical Station. We'll touchdown in about half an hour." Ogre responded. Naota sat back and stared at the blinding rift in space that grow steadily larger in his sight.  
"First beacon about 1 normative light year away." Baby Cakes reported.  
"Right, sending signal. Automatic control being given over in ~10 Minutes." Ogre said, fiddling with something. Naota wasn't quite sure how he had managed to pronounce a tilde, or that he had even said it at all, but played back in his head he was sure that was what Ogre had meant. Naota stewed on that for a moment.  
"Hey, wait! How the hell do you guys manage to speak Japanese if you've never been to Earth?" He demanded.  
"We don't." Ogre explained.  
"But I can understand you"  
"So?" Ogre replied logically, checking his watch. "Signal arrived, countersignal sent. We should over take it in.. now"  
"Roger. Closing the shutters." Baby Cakes said, bringing the instrument gauge back down over the windshield. "Sorry kid, no view until we get under the filter or you could kiss your eyes goodbye. We're about to decacelerate too, so get ready for that. Last call, Ogre"  
"Alright, let's do this." The navigator replied, cracking open a final beer. "Hey, Naota, if you don't wanna be wearing it, I'd suggest finishing your drink before we slow down." Naota looked at his own drink. He had been nursing over the whole trip, but there was still half left.  
"Thirty seconds kid! Do it!" Baby Cakes urged excitedly. "We ain't cleaning it up if you don't"  
Naota looked from the warm beer, to his hoody, and back at the beer. He had never really had alcohol before, but considering the alterative.. "Fuck it!" He muttered, snatching his can up and chugging as best as we could. Cakes and Ogre cheered wildly, hiding the fact that they had merely held their hands over the top of their cans. Naota finished in a coughing fit.  
No sooner had he cleared his throat then a loud bang came from outside, and deceleration began. Without a seat belt, he could only brace himself against the seat in front of him and hold on for dear life.  
Then just as suddenly as it began, it was over. Gravity returned to normal, there was a creaking noise, and they had landed. "All physical functions compatible. Good flight, let's get the hell out of here." Ogre said, opening the door and pushing his seat forward for Naota to exit.  
It was a large dome, perhaps a hundred meters tall. It seemed to be made of concrete. Naota walked forward, impressed by the size of the building. It was lit by a ring of lights half way up the wall. Unbelievably, a soft breeze brushed his cheek. The floor was made of a slick concrete that reminded him of an aircraft hanger, oil stains and everything.  
He looked back at the vehicle that carried him here, and his face dropped. Far from the advanced piece of alien technology he expected, it resembled nothing more than a beat up El Camino.  
"Alright Naota, let's go." Ogre said, walking toward the only door. Baby Cakes was already ahead of them. Without breaking stride, the pilot drained the last of his beer and flung it blindly over his shoulder. Naota watched incrediously as the can spun through the air and banked in the bed of the truck.  
The door led to a walk way covered by an arch of dark glass. A strange, shifting light flooded in from all directions, like flowing stained glass. Naota looked up, and his jaw dropped. There was a sun in this sky, but it was bright blue. And the rest of the sky didn't feel any compulsion to stick to one shade, flipping between colors like searching the radio band for something they liked.  
His eyes returned to the path ahead of him. The backs of his two guides changed colors every heart beat under this crazy sunshine, and he hurried to keep up.

The next room was something of a letdown, just a secretary sitting at a desk under fluorescent lighting. Naota entered in time to hear the end of Orge's report to an older man in a crisp blue uniform. "- Dropping off one Naota Nandaba, as per orders"  
"Alright, I'll take care of him. There's nothing here for you guys, so go enjoy yourselves." Came the response.  
"Right on. Good luck, kid"  
He was taken into an office. The old dude sat down at his desk and offered Naota a seat. He spotted a stack of papers on the desk that he reasoned was the 'The File' he had heard so much about.  
"You come to us highly recommended, young man. Enough NO to contain the Pirate King, strong enough to hold off a rogue Space Patrol officer and a strong recommendation from the local Immigration Commander. Quite a feat"  
"I guess.." This old dude reminded Naota of a teacher who didn't really know what was going on. Some honed instinct told him not to ask after Haruko.  
"Well, I'm sure you're curious, so let me explain some things to you. As you've no doubt noticed, you are no longer on Earth. The organization I, along with the two young men you met earlier, am a part of is known as the Galactic Space Police Brotherhood." By now Nao' was convinced he was two steps ahead of this old man, but he kept quiet.  
"Our task is to ensure that the laws enacted by the Grand Galactic Government are enforced. We're a vital part of the galaxy's stability, and handle everything from space travel violations to System Sized or Higher Piracy." The old man beamed.  
"Despite our best efforts, there has been a sizable increase in the number of NO, and non NO, capable pirates operating in our galaxy in the last few years. To that end, we've decided to reach out to young people like yourself who have been placed in.. extraordinary circumstances and come out ahead"  
The old man waited for Naota to acknowledge him. Nao' nodded curtly, waiting for him to get to the point. Space or no space, he had met adults like him before.  
"So, with that background I'd like to offer you a once in a life time opportunity! We'd like you to join our fraternity, and help us defend the peaceful citizens of the galaxy by accepting a position in a newly opened academy for NO Officers." The old man exclaimed, waiting for Naota to express his gratitude for being granted such a choice. Not that he wasn't ungrateful, far from it, but Nao' had taken a strong disliking to the melodramatic buffoon in front of him. He gazed slightly disdainfully into the old man's eyes for a moment.  
"Bitchin. Let's go."


	3. Origins of Atmosk

The first thing Naota learned was that the rest of the galaxy did not operate under Haruko's brand of freewheeling anarchy. Not even the pilot who took him to the Academy was willing to trust him with doing anything he wasn't told to. Naota sighed and played their game. Sit down, stand up, pretend you give a crap about the Galaxy Space Police Brotherhood.  
The Academy itself was a campus spread out on a green planet not too different from Earth. For six months he followed a strict schedule of exercise in the morning, followed by more classes than he could of imagined. Physics, Celestial Mathematics, Technical Aspects of Spacecraft, Astronomy, History and Customs of The Grand Galactic Government, Utilizing NO in the Movement of Self and Others.  
Reversing a trend that dated back a decade, Naota throw himself into his studies. Unlike the rest of the students, referred to as Cadets by many screaming GSBP members who were paid to be angry, Naota didn't seek to just survive his tutelage. He sought to dominate his new environment. He had heard the doubts about him being from a back water like Earth from the first day, and was determined to never give them a single reason to believe he didn't belong there. Every test, every physical competition he strove to be the leader.  
He was aided by an interest in the curriculum and a complete lack of desire to be back home. While the other cadets had spent years learning the lessons in high school, every concept laid before Naota was new, a chance to better understand his new world. And when the others would think of home, and the fact that they didn't have to be there, Naota smiled. There was nowhere else in the universe he wanted to be.  
One more irritation. Bass lessons. When he had shown up with Haruko's bass slung over his shoulder, the Science Chair busted a nut. He immediately took Nao' aside and demanded "If it was his." Naota claimed it was, and that it had metalized in his hand. A slight variation of how he came to own his Flying V. When he told the Science Chair he didn't know how to play, lessons were immediately set up away from prying eyes. 5 years after he first heard about it, apparently the mechanics of Haruko's instrument were still secret.  
He had trouble with the basics and changing small things around him, no matter how many times he practiced the hand motions. It did what he asked of it, but never perfectly. His instructor seemed convinced something was wrong with the bass, but Naota refused to let him touch it. Then Naota tried to propel a small model ship through space, a much more complex task, and the guitar responded beautifully, surpassing everyone's expectations. Vindicated, Naota grasped the bass proudly.

Graduation. The first class of the Galactic Academy of NO Officers stood in formation in uniform and listened to how proud the Galaxy was of them. Naota stood at attention and endured their children's games. The speeches ended, and the cadets raised their hands and swore to do their duty. Tearful families rushed the newest members of the GSPB. Naota went back to his room, slipped the heavy leather strap of Haruko's bass over his shoulder, and started looking for something to do. He found it in the Science Chair who had shown such interest over the instrument when he first arrived.  
He was given a letter a in sealed envelope. Brought directly from the center of the galaxy, with an official seal and signature and everything. Nao' casually ripped it open and scanned the letter.  
Orders. commission as a Field Lieutenant in the GSPB. Orders to take the next available transport to Headquarters, GSPB, for duty assignment. Naota stuffed the letter in his pocket and made for the hangers. The next ship left in three hours. Naota took the delay to excuse himself to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and stood in front of the mirror. Millions of light years away from home, but the face in the mirror was still his. His uniform still felt strange on his shoulders. Khaki shirt and tie, heavy green coat and brown pants. It looked just a tad bit more natural than his school uniform, so that was something.  
Naota checked his watch, the only link he still had to Earth time. He had turned 18 in school. He looked over his reflection again. "Lieutenant Nandaba.." He repeated to himself, shaking his head. "Didn't see this shit coming"

The Galactic Space Police Brotherhood's Head Quarters was located on a artificial satellite the size of a small moon in the Galactic Center. The ship that brought Naota in parked in orbit and sent him down in a crowded shuttle packed with people in uniforms and suits. Those that knew what they were doing scattered to a dozen different elevators. Naota got in line for the directory, his orders in hand.  
"Uh, NO Branch I guess.." Naota asked of the officer behind the computer. He looked Naota over suspiciously, lingering on the bass slung over his back.  
"Are you new?"  
"I am." Naota nodded.  
"Take the tram to Section 33, then grab an elevator for Floor 410." He was informed.

Section 33, Floor 410, was a sparse looking room, without any decoration over the metal frame work. It was a sealed room, the elevator being the only way in or out. The only object in the room was a TV displaying video feed of a similar room, except with a man sitting behind a desk in it. Naota looked around impassively. Obviously he was supposed to do something, but.. "Oh. A test." He figured it out. Familiarity with his environment, and familiarity with his destination. All that was needed for NO travel. He focused on the image on the screen, projected himself on to it, and disappeared in a pulse of red light.

"Lieutenant Nandaba, Naota." The secretary greeted without looking up. He was one of the few men Naota had seen wearing the same styled uniform as his. Naota presented his letter. "We don't need to see that here. The Commander is waiting for you in the next room." The secretary said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.  
The Commander was a short, stocky man with thinning hair. Naota came to attention and reported in like the book said. " Field Lt. Nandaba, reporting as ordered"  
"Excellent, excellent. Sit down, son." The Commander offered Naota his hand. "Commander Henderson, Head NO Special Investigations Officer. I suppose you know what we do here, so I'll spare the exposition. We have high expectations of you. First things first, you'll be taking orders from this office, and this office only. Most of the time you will operate independently, but you have priority to hitch a ride on any ship you can get on. So, welcome to the team." He explained.  
"Thank you, sir." "Now then, let's get you started." Commander Henderson said, reaching for a box on the floor behind him. He dropped it on the desk with a thud. "Extra uniform, two suits for undercover work, I.D., Badge, Cash Card, Service Revolver, PDA. All your basics, anything else you need you can secure with your I.D"  
"Yes, sir." Naota said, grabbing the box.  
"Now for the fun part. I don't suppose it's too much of a mental leap for you to guess what your assignment is." Henderson smiled.  
"Atmosk." Naota stated confidently.  
"Bingo. Atmosk has been causing no end of trouble for us since he left Earth. In fact, this unit was formed in response to his theft of the entire Alpheratz system. Given the situation, we're putting you in charge of taking him down. Now, I'm not gonna lie to you. He won't go down easy or quick. You're standing orders will be to assist in any GSPB investigations you run across, but the big picture is Atmosk. Got it"  
"Got it. What's the starting point?" Naota asked impatiently. Henderson smiled.  
"They told me you cut through the bullshit. Very well. A observatory in the Sagittarius Arm just picked up the oldest known NO trace with a signature similar to Atmosk. It came from a Medical Meccanica plant that was destroyed about 200 years ago. You're an investigator, so investigate it. Find what you can and follow it. I've scheduled you on a small destroyer headed that way. Hanger 1775, if anyone gives you any shit, show 'em your I.D., if they're still being a problem, tell them to call me"  
"Aye aye, sir"  
"And one more thing. That little trick with your guitar is still classified, no matter what two Tech. Sergeants in an old truck heard. So keep the showing off to a minimum."

For once, Naota was scheduled on the alien looking space ship he had been waiting for since he left Earth. It was the size of old fashioned wooden vessel, weakly armed, but fast. The name on the side read in bold letters 'Jet Stream Wild'  
It carried a crew of 15 who worked in a state of near mutanty, no respect was shown to rank or station. Once they left port, the engines began to heat the ship until it was like working in a sauna. In response, the crew, male and female alike, took to doing their jobs in various states of undress. Naota lasted a day and a half before he abandoned his uniform, his pants his sole concession to modesty. By 20 days in, the crew had begun to go stir crazy. Everyone talked to themselves, fist fights and fooly cooly flared up hourly. One of the mechanics barricaded himself in the engine room with a make shift knife, threatening to kill anyone who entered his sacred realm. People smoked in contained environments, which thanks to advances in technology, only presented a small chance of massive explosions.  
Naota tried to ask the more sane members of the crew the last time they left ship. The answers ranged from months to slightly longer than the universe had existed.  
When the knock came, Naota was busy staring out his window into space and challenging random stars to start a fight. He was surprised to be addressed by someone wearing what looked like a uniform.  
"Lt. Nandaba, sir. We're about to take up orbit above our destination, the Chief requests your presence on the bridge, sir." A young lady he recognized as one of the communication officers said, saluting crisply.

There was a pulse of crimson, and Lt. Nandaba metalized in front of the abandoned Medical Meccanica plant. He noted curiously that it wasn't an iron. At least not any more. It was a twisted wreckage of steel that jutted out against a pink and purple twilight that never seemed ready to slip into night. He easily found a pathway into the center of the wreckage, and made his way under a canopy of ripped steel. He found no personal affects, no signs of life among the ruin. A light breeze blew through the gaping holes, screeching in a way that could only remind Naota of the siren back on Earth.  
At the center of the plant was a deep pit, machinery visible at the bottom of the wound in the ground. Naota found a nearby stairwell and began descending under ground. The lights long gone, he navigated by flash light.  
Lockers, offices, a cafeteria. People had worked here. And maybe still did, Naota thought, as something heavy fell somewhere below him. He could almost pick up cursing in the echoing bang.  
Three levels down he entered into the open air of the pit. Catwalks laced the walls, punctuated with observation decks. Nao' followed his catwalk until it terminated in a large observatory. A faint orange light pulsated from within. He turned off his flash light and proceeded inside.  
The top half of a man floated above a panel of instruments that hadn't existed in ages. He mumbled to himself irritably. Interestingly, Naota found that he didn't cast a shadow in the strange glow of the ghost.  
"What are you doing here, you'll mess up the entire experiment!" The scientist exclaimed, reading something only he could see.  
"I can't interfere, you're dead." Naota stated simply. The ghost turned around, studying him with a face that had been ripped apart by some great violence.  
"Hm. Fair enough, why are you here?" He demanded.  
"I have questions. What we're you doing here?" "Before we died, we we're attempting to replicate a black hole by collecting pure NO in a single compressed point. Until that damn fool burst in and took it!" The ghost explained, throwing up his bony hands in frustration.  
"Do you know where he came from"  
"Yes, of course we do! We mapped his course as soon as we detected him!" The scientist snapped. "It's over here somewhere. His path in at least, no way we could track what he left as, even if we had survived." He walked to a cabinet on his nonexistent legs and started rummaging through papers. "Ah, here we are.." He rolled up a sheet of paper and handed it to Naota. "What do you want to know for, young man"  
"I intend to stop him." Naota replied.  
"Hmph. About time someone asks us about it again"  
"Again?"  
The scientist rubbed his exposed jaw bone thoughtfully. "Yes, the last person to ask was a young lady about 15 years ago. We gave her a bracelet tuned to the same frequency as the NO we had gathered. I think we have a spare lying around, if you'd like one"  
Naota thought it over for a minute. "No, thank you. However, you wouldn't happen to have anything that replicates that frequency, would you"  
The ghost searched in his pocket, and handed Naota something that looked like a tape player/recorder. "I used to record my notes in this, but it's been leaking radiation in that frequency since the explosion, as long as an electrical current is flowing. Just turn it on and it would do the job"  
"Thank you very much, sir. Sorry to trouble you." Naota said, taking the chart and tape player.  
"Just make sure you take care of him." There was a flash of red, and the ethereal scientist returned to his work.

The trip was only five days, but it didn't slow the crew of the Jet Steam Wild's descent into madness. This time they decided Naota's ability to depart the ship made him divine. He couldn't go anywhere without someone bowing to him, or begging for miracles or a good harvest. Someone took the time to create a prophecy where Naota would depart again and return with sacred, eternal shore leave passes.  
Once again, the crew snapped back into a semblance of discipline as soon as they took up orbit above their destination. All traces of the religious revival were forgotten in the face of a job to do.  
An image of the location indicated was brought up on a monitor. Naota, bass on his back, concentrated on the image and disappeared in a flash.

He opened his eyes in an abandoned town. Made of wood, the buildings were falling apart, gutted by fires. A single dirt road ran through the middle. Two suns beat down fiercely, dust filled the air and turned the sky into a haze. The planet was just as hot as being on ship, and even more humid. Outside town, a sea of tall prairie grass stretched to the horizon, unbroken. The only noise came from insects that flooded the air.  
At first, Naota only observed. The dark interior of buildings met his impassive gaze. They held no more secrets. He spotted a house half a mile out of town, as abandoned as the rest. But something seemed amiss. Naota studied for a long moment before he caught a flash of movement through the heat mirage.  
The walk was long and miserable, and left a considerable layer of dust over Naota. The house was more weeds than wood. There was a corner of the porch, covered in pitch black shadow, that emanated a regular creaking noise.  
"I know why you're here." An old voice croaked from the shadow. He walked on to the porch and into the shadow, letting his eyes adjust. The creaking came from a rocking chair.  
"Knew as soon as you shown up like that." There was a form resting in the chair, slim, dark, impossibly old. "You wanna know how he got what he got." The form stated.  
"I'm looking for him. I'd like to know whatever I can." Naota said politely.  
"Well, I figure I'm the only one left alive who was there. Might as well put your feet up, no need to stand around like a stranger. Say, you any good with that thing?" The form pointed a leathery finger at Haruko's bass. "I guess you could say that, yeah"  
"Well then, let's see if you're the real thing. Why don't you play me something while I talk?" The old man asked. Naota swung the bass off his back and sat down on the porch railing. Idly he plucked his way through a scale for the old man's amusement. "Dammit son, I didn't say hit notes, I said play!" He demanded sharply. Naota looked up at the old man, shrugged and began to play. Slow and steady, seasons coming and going with only slight variation. A back beat dark, and slightly evil. Hinting at something that hid in the fields around them, waiting for night unbroken by artificial light since the dawn of time.  
That old leather of the man's face split in a smile. "There we go. Now, where to begin.." He talked, and Naota listened, and the scene formed in his brain.

He was born the third of eight on a rundown farm. The first born died in an accident, and the second from a fever when he was a few months old. He took to the fields when he was 6, and his father passed on when he was 11, and the farm work fell on his shoulders. Two years later his mother followed, and he was alone with four siblings. The rest of the town offered to look after them, but he refused and took up the mantle of providing for his family.  
His dark form was visible in the fields from dawn to dusk. He worked tirelessly, aided only by a brother too young. And he never complained, not once. Every ten days he would come into town to buy food with the crop he had picked. If the crop was good, he bought books and clothes for his siblings.  
When he was 14, he bought a used guitar off the general store owner. An old flat top box with only four strings left. It was the first thing the town had ever known him to buy for himself.  
While he was out, his brother slipped and fell into the river. By the time he got there, it was too late. He walked back into town, carrying his dead brother in his arms, never speaking a word. He spent the last of his savings on the funeral, sent his sisters to live with their aunt, and retreated into the house with that guitar.  
Alone in the dark he sat with that guitar, studying on it. He would reach out, hit a note, and commit it to memory. For a whole year he sat there, playing one note at a time. Never eating, sleeping with his eyes open. He played every note and chord possible, one at a time, and he never played the same note twice. Completely in the dark, by feel only.  
He emerged from that house half wild, starving, sleep depraved in the middle of the worst draught in years. He walked into town, guitar slung over his bare back, wouldn't say a word to anyone. Finally he stopped in the middle of the street, took guitar in hand, and began to play.  
They say there wasn't a person alive for five miles who didn't hear it. It was the most amazing sound any one could remember. Beaten, defiant, broken, proud, hopeless and wounded but still alive. The drought ended that day, the sky opening up even if there wasn't a single cloud in the sky.  
After that, he began playing in stores and saloons, or on the streets with a collection plate. Soon he had enough to replant the farm, but instead he sent every nickel to his sisters.  
But he had a problem. Nearly every time he played he broke a string. He kept a music shop in the next county in business, ordering strings through the mail. Only ordered four at a time though. He never saw the need for six. Legend has it, the strings just couldn't handle the pain he expressed and killed themselves by breaking.  
But he was frustrated. He knew he had a destiny in his music, but as long as he broke every string he touched, he couldn't move on. When no mortal string could stand up to him, he began to look to a more.. sinister source.  
It was out on that dirt road, in the dark left over from the early days of the world that he summoned some dark force. Some say it was the Devil himself, some say it was just a demon, but it was not of this plane.  
In exchange for his soul, he demanded something worthy of his talents. The Devil gave him the EB-0 Bass he would make famous, but promised to return for his soul. But the Devil didn't know who he was dealing with.  
"Devil, you just made a big mistake." He said, smiling cockily. It had to be so, because if he had any doubt it wouldn't of worked. "Because you see, I got a destiny with this piece, and no one's gonna stop me"  
And for the first time he played with complete confidence in his instrument. He blew the Devil's head open, bright red light pouring from the shrieking demon into his hands, the grass around him erupting into flame.  
When he was done, there was nothing left but a charred patch of ground. Understanding his new power, he looked up to the stars. There was more power out there, and he could feel it.  
With out a second thought, he erupted into space in pursuit of his destiny.

Naota stopped playing, his face sweating in the heat. The old man sighed. "You've got talent, but that thing isn't yours." Naota ran his hand along the neck of the bass. It had been with him while he played, but now sat awkwardly in his lap. "No, it's not. Someone else has mine." He said.  
"Someone else has it? Well, you better get it back son!" The voice in the shadow scolded.  
"I know." Nao' stood up and shifted the bass to his back. "Thank you for your time. I don't think anyone else could of told me that"  
"No they couldn't. Good luck to you, son. Come back when you get your guitar back, and we'll what you can do." "Yes, sir." Naota focused on his room on the Jet Stream Wild, and disappeared.

Back on ship, he typed out a quick report to HQ about what he learned. Atmosk had once been a man, it seems. And Nao' had a feeling he knew when he stopped being one too. A few minutes of concentration, and he pulled himself through space to that sparse room where Henderson's secretary worked.  
The secretary took his report without comment, then grinned. "Lt. Nandaba, you lucky bastard. We just got a lead on your boy. Hope you like the cold, mother fucker." He glibbed, holding out a new set of orders.  
"shiiit." Naota muttered, scanning them. Uncontacted World, hostile to outsiders and freezing. Then something at the bottom caught his attention. 'If encountered, Haruha Raharu is to apprehended quietly'  
Naota's blood went cold.


	4. The Jhati

'Investigate the source of NO emission with similar signature to that of 'Atmosk'. If sightings of Former Patrol Officer Haruha Raharu are found to be true, she is to be apprehended quietly.' So read the orders that had brought Lt. Naota Nandaba to the far side of the galaxy. To a planet covered in dust and hard ground, with a bright sun that washed out the sky. A desert world that was cold enough to freeze water just a few degrees off the equator, the result of a thick atmosphere this far from its star.  
The air was thin, frigid, sharp. The people covered themselves in tight fur padding, and wrapped their faces in thick scarves. Not from the cold, but for religious modesty. The source of the NO emission was a large temple that was the center piece of a city on the equator.  
The people streamed into the temple daily, anxious to get a glance at the man who had saved their planet. According to the local chatter, two months ago two new objects had appeared in the sky. One was a rogue comet, a quirk of celestial mechanics that threatened to destroy them. The other was a great bird, burning red, flying through the upper atmosphere. It wasn't hard to connect the two.  
Then the head monk, known as the Jahti, had stepped up. A old man who had been a monk since his youth, he was known as a great and wise man, the closest thing this planet had to an elected leader. The Jahti reached up and easily captured the great bird in the sky. With his newly acquired power, the old monk next captured the comet threatening to destroy them. Exhausted, he excused himself and took to bed. The temple, already the center of the cities social life, became a circus of the faithful.  
Naota had taken up residence in a small flat half a mile from the temple, wearing the local guise and passing himself off as a pilgrim. Each day he made his way to the temple as part of that faceless throng, looking for a breach in security, a contact to be made, anything to get him closer to the Jahti.  
And for a sign of Haruko. He approached that situation like a professional with a job to do. Haruko was a criminal. He was a member of the Galactic Space Police Brotherhood. That's all there was to it, he told himself several times a day. He had even stopped thinking about her as frequently since he had taken up his new job. Except at night. Nights didn't count though.

He rose in total darkness, lifting the thick curtains by touch. The sun hung low in the sky. It wouldn't set for at least three more weeks here. Naota moved quickly from under the thick woolen blankets to his heavy padded clothes. He took only a small notebook out of his desk. The tape recorder that acted as an NO decoy, his PDA and service revolver were all stashed away under his mattress. This planet had no contact with the GSPB, and didn't take kindly to outsiders. Haruko's bass sat in the corner. There seemed to be two universal constants no matter where Naota went; Guitars and baseball.  
His face hidden and a long loose cloak around his shoulders, he made it to the temple gates at a slow hour. With days that lasted months on Earth, the people here lived on a forty hour schedule that Nao' just couldn't keep up with.  
He merged into the crowd and began the familiar trek. Past the large stone gate, up the steps into the large temple, lit by long square windows in the wall. He made the proper motions he didn't understand as he crossed the threshold. The monks, who wore distinctive purple cloaks stood at the doorways, keeping everyone in the main chamber. Naota studied the intricate carvings on the wall for the hundredth time, casting quick glimpses around for anything new.  
One of the pilgrims detached himself from the group and spoke to one of the monks. He was quickly shown father into the temple. Naota prayed this was a break in the stalemate, and settled in to wait.  
The man returned after a moderate amount of time, thanking the monk at the door. Naota followed him out of the temple and into the sea of people going home. Following the back of his head intently, Naota pushed his way delicately through the crowd until he was right behind his target.  
Naota did his best to summon the holy fire into his eyes, and put a hand on the man's shoulder.  
"Brother, did you see him?" He asked fervently, staring into the man's brown eyes. "Him? Ah no, brother I.." The man stammered, taken aback but doing his best to be cordial.  
"I saw them let you into the temple, did you not even catch a glimpse of him!?" Naota leaned close.  
"No, I was not, ah I was there for another purpose." The man began, but caught the glint in Naota's eye. "I mean, yes we all go to see him above all, but I was interested in doing some work for the temple"  
"Service to the temple? Bless you brother, what do they need help with?" The man relaxed visibly now that he was sure Naota wouldn't damn him to hell. "Calligraphy. There's a lot more demand for the holy book now, since the incident. And of course every copy is hand written, so they're looking for volunteers to copy them out"  
Under the scarf, Naota grinned.

"Ah, of course, brother. Let me take you to the brother in charge." The monk responded when he heard Naota's request. "Please, step inside"  
Naota followed the monk through the door and found himself on a balcony above an enclosed garden. Flowers and trees grew wild in the grass despite the cold, the only visibly man made structure was a reflecting pool that was open to the sky. This close to sun set the water was in the shadow, but it was too dark for Naota to brush it off. On closer inspection, he could see beads of white floating in the surface. Allege or small fish he reasoned. The monk stopped and smiled. "In normal times, the garden would be open to pilgrims, but we've closed it down while the Jahti recovers. New monks still drink from the pool for their initiation however. It helps them reach a clearer understanding of the gods"  
Naota nodded. It was, he decided, reflecting stars. A night sky that wouldn't be visible for weeks. He followed the monk, eyes darting around in search of the Jahti. He caught no sign of the old man, but found his likely hiding spot. A large window on the top floor had two monks standing by it. Naota memorized the floor plan, intending to map it out the first chance he got.  
Finally he was shown into the room with the head Calligrapher. The work was being done in an old monastery in the desert. If he had no personal transportation, he would be taken out in the next mail train. He would stay in an empty cell, but since he wasn't a monk he was free to bring possessions. No pay, but free meals.  
"well, are you still interested brother?" The monk finally asked. Naota thought it over. All he really had to do was grab the Jahti and NO warp back to the ship that brought him here, and now that he knew the floor plan.. But, he supposed it was still his job to investigate the rumors of Haruko, and a few weeks of free cooked food wouldn't be that bad.  
"Yes, I am."

He rode out in the baggage compartment of a steam powered locomotive, Haruko's bass hidden as best he could under his cloak. The monastery was a rundown stone building built into the side of a sand dune. There was no train station, but a single road terminated at the building.  
One side of the building was a make shift parking lot. And there, sitting on its kick stand innocently, was a bright yellow Vespa. "Shiiit." Naota muttered. That one thread of continuity brought it home. He was so far from home he didn't know what direction to point, chasing the Pirate King, and worst (Best?) of all, Haroku was somewhere in that building.  
But that didn't mean he wasn't going to continue.

The monastery was full of people; working, socializing, eating. All of them were covered in modesty, and Naota searched frantically for a hint of gold among their eyes. Not that he'd know what to do if he found it.  
His room was a small cell built into the rock. There was a mattress thrown hastily on the floor and nothing else. The monk who guided him left alone, promising to return to give him a tour later.  
Naota closed the door behind him and made sure it was locked. He quickly unwrapped his scarf, preparing for an NO trick. The right and left brains hooked up, and he concentrated on his old flat. With its image clear in his mind, he reached out and took his possessions from under the mattress.  
Snapping back to reality, he could feel the almost forgotten horns jutting out of his head. "Hey, it worked." He observed, feeling the corner of his PDA jutting out of his temple. He took a deep breath and pulled it out of his head.  
It hurt exactly as much as he remembered. But he managed to gather his things without attracting attention and stash them under his mattress.  
He spent the tour of the monastery carefully memorizing the lay out. Long rows of cells lit by torch light in the front, leading to the dining hall. Past the dining hall were the rooms where monks performed their daily rituals. As he was led father on, Naota realized that the monastery hadn't been built in to the sand dune, but the dune had built up over it.  
Finally they reached the room where the actual copying was being done. High windows had once let in light, but had been boarded up before the advancing sand. All in all he saw about fifty people who weren't monks. Naota's eyes constantly flashed toward their faces, searching the eyes. A desk was pointed out to him, and the monk promised to fetch him when the next working shift began.  
Naota tried to sleep, but was too uneasy.

The working shift lasted 16 hours, a little less than half a day for the natives. But for Earthling Naota, 16 hours of writing was sheer torture. His only relief was the large meal portions and 24 hour rest period.  
Sixteen hours copying things he couldn't read until his hand cramped up, followed by pacing his cell pretending he was asleep left Naota doubting his own sanity. But he had a job to do, and there was still no damn sign of Haroku. He checked the parking lot every now and again, out of investigative interest only, but the yellow Vespa was still there.  
By the third 'day', he had his doubts about continuing his undercover work. He had been staring at a half completed page, rubbing a sore hand for about five minutes. The single candle each desk held didn't make it any easier. Sighing, he got up to use the washroom. As he walked, he lazily examined the backs of the other workers. He saw nothing unusual, but he had a vague feeling he had seen something but missed it. He turned it over in his mind while he did his business and kept coming back to a worker who was on his right as he exited the room, sitting with his back to him. Some miniscule detail that didn't add up.  
Naota walked back into the studio, blue eyes immediately seeking out his hunch. Not attempting to hide it among the quiet busy work, he stared down the back of his suspect. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just another page working on a sheet of paper. A girl, judging from the femine hand clutching the pen. Naota stopped cold, staring. The femine left hand. A left hand that held the pen indifferently, because it would rather be against the strings of a Rickenbacker 4001 Bass Guitar.  
Naota's eyes roamed up to desk. There was a mirror next to the candle. Automatically he stared into it. The reflection held a pair of gold eyes, bright and clear. And they were looking at him, a challenge.  
Naota turned his head quickly and walked away.

He paced his cell energetically. She was here, and he had seen her, and now he had to do something about it. Time after time he went over potential courses of action in his head, never coming to a definitive conclusion. The torch lights outside his door went out, signaling the end of another working day. Naota somehow talked himself into laying down, that he would decide on something when he was fresh.  
Under the thick blankets, he found himself surprisingly exhausted and warm. He was asleep quickly. He dreamed of being suspended in a field of darkness, with nothing to been seen around him. But something was wrong. He squinted into the distance, and made out the wall of his cell.  
He wasn't asleep, he was under the blankets, staring at the wall in the barely lit cell. The door was at a slightly off angle. Naota fixated on it. Had he closed the door all the way? In the excitement he hadn't noticed. The shadows shifted subtly.  
The door was open. Just a crack, but open. Naota slowly reached his hand under his pillow and drew his revolver. He sensed the person on the other side of the door waiver.  
'I see you, Haroku.' He thought as loud as possible. He felt her freeze behind the door, waiting. For an unbearable moment he stared hotly at the door, the wicked weight of the gun in his hand.  
The door opened an inch more, silently. Naota cocked the hammer, the factory fresh springs produced a satisfyingly menacing crack which reverberated off the walls. After only a moment's hesitation, Haroku vanished, light streaming in the crack of the door.  
Naota spent the rest of the night wide awake, planning and watching the door.

'Day' came, people moving to and fro beyond his door. Lt. Nandaba got dressed, wrapping his face up. He slipped the bass over his back, and concealed it the best he could under a heavy cloak. The revolver went under his cloak too, the rest of his possessions in his pocket. He didn't intend to come back.

Outside the monastery was deserted when he stepped out. The sun still had a week to go before it would set. Naota walked about hundred paces away from the door, then turned around. Raising the radioactive tape player high above his head, he switched it on. He couldn't hear it, but he knew Haruko's bracelet had just started going nuts.  
"Clink-clink-clink-clink." Naota imitated nervously. It took only a few minutes for her to appear at the entrance, staring at him in agitation. Naota shut off the player, and starting walking into the desert, away from any witnesses, confident she would follow.  
He stopped a mile away in level plain of sand. When he turned around she was hundred feet behind him, a large red case by her side. It had to contain the combination of Atmosk's EB-0 and his Flying V that she had left Earth with. Naota's hands were red from the biting cold.  
"Who the hell are you?" She demanded, her voice as tender as lovers, arguing in German. The mindless work most of been getting to her too. Naota was silent, considering his options last minute when he should be talking. "I'm here to arrest you." He said simply. He was just doing his job, no more. Just. doing. his. job.  
"Ahh, you must of been who they sent from that piece of shit orbiting above us." She said, cracking her knuckles. "Well sonny, you worked the same crappy job I did, so you understand why I'm a little too worked up to go quietly, riiight?" Haroku grinned.  
Naota was still somewhat at a loss, his words rang hollow in his ears. For the first time since she had left he was unsure of his footing, nervous. "Like you would ever go quietly, Haroku"  
That had some effect on her. The gold eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in suspicion. "How do you know that name, who the fuck are you?" She snarled. Naota was tempted to reveal himself and make his mission personal, but that was what Amaro would of done. The thought turned his stomach.  
"All that matters now is that I'm part of the Police Brotherhood." He said, his voice lacking something. A twitch in her brow showed she caught the qualifier 'now.' Nao' thought they might be on to something by showing only their eyes here.  
Haroku pulled the scarf from her face and ripped her coat away. Six years may of passed but for all she changed it could of been a day. Despite the bitter cold she stood in all her glory still wearing the bright red driving outfit he had first seen her in. It was somehow reassuring.  
Then she struck, and Naota was himself again. Haroku covered the distance between them in a flash, swinging a hard left for his face. Nao' ducked quickly. It was only a little harder than dodging that damned guitar.  
Her leg struck out hard for his knee. Naota jumped, noting curiously that he went far higher than physics allowed. But in air he couldn't move, and Haroku followed him in a bound.  
He made to block her punch but it was a feint and she ripped the scarf from his head as she passed. Naota landed with his back to her and when she touched down he leapt straight at her. Haroku heard him coming and spun out of the way, but for a split second their faces were inches apart. Gold eyes staring in shock. "Ta-kun?" She asked simply. Naota smiled arrogantly. Even Haroku was capable of shock it seems.  
"You're cute when you're angry." He said, and the second passed and he sped past her. He landed and a body slammed heavily into his back. Haroku spun him around, only inches away. A slim hand shot under his cloak and jammed the revolver under his chin.  
He stared into her eyes, but there was no gold, only a demonic white intensity. Panic bells went off in his head. 'She may look the same but she is dangerous and very capable of destroying you!' He thought. But she didn't shoot.  
"Takun.." She growled feraly. "What are you doing here"  
"I said"  
"DON"T FUCK WITH ME!" She yelled. "How did you get off Earth"  
And everything changed with that one sentence. He had long reasoned that she never meant to return, but to hear her it admit it so blatantly changed things. All the cocky bravado and indifferent detachment in him were blown away in a heartbeat. "What the hell does it matter to you if I didn't stay put! You never intended to come back so I left on my own!" He raged. The feel of the gun against his flesh only made his eyes blaze fiercer. The bitterness of one left alone.  
"You came to stop me again, haven't you!? To take away all I've worked for!" She pushed his head up with the gun, but he stubbornly fought her hand down with his neck so he could stare straight at her.  
"God damn right I have! You know why? Because I said I would! I gave my word and I intend to keep it!" He accused, crossing a line. His hand tightened, longing for a knife to strike out with.  
"You ungrateful little bastard! What the fuck would you know about my motives?" Her hand shook and tightened around the trigger but Naota was too far gone to stop. "What the hell did you expect me to do, stay in that shit hole of a town and lead a meaningless life? After what you showed me!?" Naota roared, wild eyed. The gun to his chin no longer mattered.  
Something in Haroku faltered, a ripple of gold in the blinding white of her eyes. Naota grabbed the neck of Haruko's bass under his cloak and swung at her, breaking the strap across his back. A streak of red marked the space where he struck.  
But she was already gone, landing back by the guitar case. Naota saw the gun disappear into her pocket. Haroku ripped the case open, hurling it at Naota. He batted it away with her bass.  
Haroku charged, gripping the hybrid double guitar by one neck. Naota stood his ground and the guitars crashed together with a ring that was heard for miles. Haroku hovered above him, pressing the attack. Naota put both arms into it, and the pink haired girl shot up into the sky.  
With out thought, Naota followed into the sky. He caught up with her in a flash and ripped the bass through the air at her. She easily dodged him and flung him to the deck. Naota's form ripped into a dune, filling the air with sand.  
He stood up in the center of the crater. His eyes caught the form of Haroku still hovering high above him. He brought the bass up to his shoulder and cried out. "COME ON"  
Something glittered in the sun above him, but Haroku remained in place. An instant later and he caught sight of the double guitar hurtling toward him. A loud boom announced the guitar's acceleration past the sound barrier. Naota swung with all his might, and the bass slammed into Haruko's guitar directly between the twin necks.  
The crash of wood and metal was deafening. He swore he heard a siren in it somewhere as glared hatefully at the woman above him. Then the whole thing exploded in his face.

When he came to, the first thing he saw was Haroku resetting the strap on her bass. She seemed satisfied and ran her hands over her bass fondly. He caught her smiling as she stared at it. He struggled to stand up.  
Clink-clink-clink. Two pairs of eyes went immediately to the bracelet on Haruko's wrist. Naota reached for the tape player, but he found it smashed to pieces. The only explanation left was something had happened to the Jahti.  
Haroku laughed. "Enough of this undercover nonsense! Keep up if you can, Takun!" She said, flying off toward the old temple.  
Lt. Nandaba pushed himself to his feet and looked around. A familiar shape jutted out of the sand by his side. He solemnly took hold of his guitar and placed the strap over his shoulder. He let his hand drift down the fret board, feeling the Flying V the same way Haroku felt her bass. He didn't need no instructions for this. It was his. Grinning, he looked to the sky and launched into the air after her.


	5. Haroku No Quarter Spurning Fate

A/N: Jesus, this one kinda exploded on me. Well, I took like 4 months to do it so kinda my fault. Oh well. I like it a lot better than the last Ch. 5. Hope it makes up for my shitty reliability. And oh yeah, those are Dark Tower references thrown in. They don't really mean anything, but they came so naturally I had to leave them.

A dark cloud hovered over the horizon as Naota followed the train tracks back. As he slipped under it, the sun went out and the fires raging throughout the temple and city glowed below him.  
He stopped in mid air and began looking for the pink haired girl. The streets were mobbed with people stampeding away from the temple. He shivered, the wind was fast and frigid in the atmosphere. An explosion at the temple caught his attention.  
Haroku was standing in the middle of the street, bass slung causally on her back. She was surrounded by a line of monks with ceremonial looking cudgels in hand. Without a sound they made their move. Laughing gaily, Haroku charged straight ahead and kicked a hole in their cordon, using one of them as a spring board to leap on to the top of the temple.  
Naota shot out of the sky and struck, swinging sideways so he wouldn't damage the structure. But Haroku was gone once again, landing with the same self satisfied grin on her face.  
"Too slow Takun! You're still new at this, aren't you?" She taunted. Naota stared back levelly, trying to make out a plan. Feet pounded behind him. The monks tasked with defending the Jahti streamed onto the roof.  
"Fuck!" Naota swore under his breath, putting his guitar up. He eyed the group advancing on them nervously, looking for an escape. A shadow in the fire flicked up behind him. "C'mon, Takun. Show me somethin'." The yellow eyed woman challenged sharply. Without a moment's hesitation, she launched herself into the battle. Bodies scattered in front of her onslaught like leaves in a hurricane. Naota only caught a glimpse of her smile before they closed on him.  
Someone came at Naota, his movements slower than Naota assumed they would be. He easily avoided the blow and tripped the man up. The going was no great test. The monks who avoided Haroku rushed him piecemeal, and it was easy enough to turn them away unharmed. Something sped toward him from behind, the shadows on the floor Naota's only warning. He slid to the side just in time to avoid a monk hurled through the air by Haroku. The pink haired girl flowed through the fracas, causally breaking limbs and throwing men off the edge with a smile. Naota stared in awe as she twirled gracefully through the air, brushing off the feeble attempts to bring her down. In his appreciation, Naota didn't notice a single bloodied monk break away from the fight to rush him. He noticed the holy man too late to duck him, and Naota's fist shot up reflexively. He made contact with the wounded man's jaw and he went down like a brick. Haroku laughed close behind him.  
"I knew I taught you how to swing earlier!" She complimented, as the remaining monks regrouped. Naota looked over his shoulder at the sound of her voice. She was hard to see, blending naturally into the improvised hues of the fire. Her eyes turned to their bloodied opponents, shining with light focused on a higher plane only she was privileged enough to know. Naota studied her face, not quite comprehending but entranced anyway.  
"You're enjoying this aren't you?" He asked, curiously. Haroku returned to reality and looked at him almost dejected. Naota couldn't help but note the completely inappropriate twinge in his heart.  
"What? Aren't you having fun?" She asked, disappointed. "Having fun?" Naota wondered aloud. He took stock of his mental state and found it remarkably stable; calm and serious. His movements had been intellectually chosen or applied instinct. It wasn't fun, but it wasn't disagreeable either. The back of his brain told him he was missing a great opportunity for excitement. Haruko's question had been somehow comforting, like it confirmed an exiled part of him. "Well.." He began, not sure what he meant to say.  
"If you don't know, let's find out!" Haroku laughed, and took off through the sky. Naota followed unquestioningly. The glowing form of the girl ripped between buildings at blinding speed. His eyes were sharp and wide as bitter wind made them water and tore at his face and hands. It was too dark to know where he was going or how close he was to slamming into a building, all he could do was follow Haroku.  
The gold eyed girl flew through the stone canyons easily, without a care in the world for the possible collision. Naota followed close behind through fires, smoke and dust, pushing himself to move faster and faster in order to keep pace. He knew he was going too fast to control himself, but he didn't care, casually disregarding the threat of death so he could get just a little bit closer to that vision from his youth. Below him people dove for cover and hid from the debris kicked up behind them.  
Steadily he made his way closer to her, sliding around corners fast enough to assert multiple G's. He was alongside her and noticed for the first time that her gloves and face had remained clean where he had been darkened by soot and ash. She looked at him, and he for a second he believed her smile is warm and directed at him.  
In that second he forgot where he was and if Haroku hadn't of swung her bass it would of been all over. The electric blue Ric' blew out a large hole in the side of the building as they slipped inside. The other side of the building billowed out the same way. Haroku stopped in mid air and turned around to admire her handy work. The stone building that had stood for years groaned and fell. The mob in the streets shrieked and scattered as another ancient home was ended.  
Lt. Nandaba hovered cautiously close to her side, staring at her in open admiration. Her face was flushed and rosy in the intimate fire light of her destruction. She turned to him.  
"Well, are you enjoying yourself, Takun?" Her smile was wide, genuine and blasmaphous for its existence. Those infinitely expressive gold eyes shone, promising of violence, adventure, bad decisions and ultimately ruin. Insane and irresistible. Naota let himself laugh, the seriousness of the situation diluted some. "You really are crazy, you know that? I mean it, seriously crazy"  
Haroku just kept smiling and pulled her goggles over her eyes. Below them a crowd had gathered, shouting angrily and throwing rocks at them in vain. Without a sound the fugitive alien took off again, flying faster and lower than ever.

Naota followed her back to the temple and found her standing in the reflecting pool garden, disdainfully staring down a man standing on a balcony. The bracelet on her wrist clinked restlessly. The Jahti had awakened. Naota landed nearby and stood quiet. Grab the Jahti and run? Stay and try to arrest Haroku? Help her?

He pretended he didn't hear that last one and stood fast, torn by indecision. Ignored but not unnoticed. Haroku stood in cocky defiance. The Jahti took a deep breath. When he spoke, it was thunderous. The sound of it filled Naota's mind, drowning out all other thoughts and leaving him with no doubt that every word he spoke was the single absolute truth of the universe.

"Impudent children! What possible reason can you give for coming to this place and causing such destruction? What ends could possibly absolve your sins today? Your selfish agendas have ruined more lives today than you'll know! Leave now, and never return!"

Haroku almost chucked. "Fuck you, old man. I ain't leaving till I get what I came here for." Naota felt his trance broken by her vulgar defiance. The old monk in the window shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"Please. I beg of you, leave before I am forced to act." He said softy.

"No dice, pally." Haroku growled, taking her bass into her hands. Naota un-slung his guitar.

"Very well. You leave me no choice. In order to preserve lives I must stop you by force." The Jahti said.

"Just fall over dead and let the youth take charge!" Haroku exclaimed, launching herself forward, bracelet clinking wildly. A beam of red light shot for her, and she easily knocked it aside with her guitar, straight for Naota. Jarred back to reality, the young Lt. leapt aside, the beam gouging a smoldering hole in the dirt.

Above him, Haroku pounded savagely on a shield of N.O., all the while unloading a barrage of shit talk that could start a camp fire. The religious threw his arms out, and a pulse of red light threw her back.

She stopped herself in mid air. The Jahti raised his hand to her. The bracelet strained harder than Naota had ever seen it go. Even he could sense the power building in the old man's palm, feel it pull individual atoms off his body.

The shot ignited the air around it and streaked for Haroku. The Vespa woman moved her head slightly to the side, the bolt of red light cutting her cheek lightly and singing her hair. It tore past, cutting a neat hole in the building behind her. A gigantic flash of light lit up the desert behind them, blowing a sand storm into the city.

Before the shadows had receded the Jahti had once again raised his palm. What was coming next was going to be even stronger than the first. "I regret this, but I must."

The air sizzled as the monk fired. Not only stronger, but faster. Too fast. And headed right for Haruko's head. But the girl caught it easily in one hand. In an instant she was in front of the Jahti, her fist, burning with red fire, cocked.

She punched through the barrier like it was nothing. The Jahti caught her hand a foot in front of his face.

"Dumbass cocksucker." She taunted. A shark's smile spread across her face. "Regret? How can you expect to win if you fight regretfully? You gotta love it, cherish it, find your life in or lose it to someone who does!" She opened her fist. Red light began to gather. The monk's eyes closed in resignation, whispering his final prayer. "Die," Haroku breathed.

Naota tackled her from the side. She fired, the shot careening wildly into the sky, the recoil sending them both spiraling away. Naota caught sight of the ground rushing up to meet them. The reflecting pool with its vision of a sky on the other side of the planet filled his vision.

He felt warm water engulf him, and then he was falling.

He fell for several minutes, through what felt like water. There was a square of light below him. He broke through into frigid air. He felt his feet touch something solid as he landed on the source of the light. He looked around him. The space was pure black. Galaxies of every color hung in that darkness. He looked down and was not surprised to find himself standing on a galaxy. He tapped his foot on it. Fluid mechanics be damned, it felt solid and smooth as glass.

He noticed a black leather shoe on his foot. He was wearing his service uniform of all things. When he looked up, Haroku had appeared on the other side of the galaxy from him. Or maybe she had always been there. It was hard to tell.

She sighed. "Guess they really did get to you." She said. "Still, at least it's that. It would kill me to see you in one of those monkey suits. Such a waste of talent." Naota shrugged.

"It was my way off. I don't really see anything wrong with it. Besides, didn't you used to be one of us?" He asked.

"Soorta.." She allowed.

"And now you're a wanted criminal."

"Oh, well.. Naota smiled at the wanted fugitive's body language. She looked like a girl caught watching the scrambled channels on the TV. "The Brotherhood finally caught on that I was only after Atmosk's power. Plus I may or may not of blown up a few things/people. I don't really care either way. It's just.." She searched for the words.

"One of those bad things you have to deal with?" Naota finished. Haroku smiled.

"Yeah, one of those."

Naota shook his head. "You can't just let these bad things define your life."

Haroku shrugged. "And why not? These bad things have made my life a thousand times better. More interesting."

"You don't have to constantly break the rules just to enjoy yourself."

Haroku snorted. "Yeah, everyone always says that. But no one does it. You sure weren't having fun on Earth."

"That was low." Naota said softly.

"Ah, don't worry about it kid. You're here now and we almost got that old man." She smiled, walking toward him.

"You know I'm not on your side, right?" He asked dryly.

"Not yet, anyway." She muttered, too low for him to hear. She stopped a few feet in front of him and gave him the once over. "Well, sooner or later the red tape and bullshit will wear you down like it did me."

"That's just you Haroku. You can't stand to be tied down to anything. Hell, not even your own past."

"Maybe. But every link I have to others limits by options in the present. Each obligation gets in the way of my goals, see?"

"You can't live like that." Naota shook his head. "You gotta stand with something, build something. What meaning what it have otherwise?"

Haroku scoffed. "Meaning? There is no meaning. Only experiences. Highs to ride, moments to cling to. When I'm dead, I'm dead. Don't care what anyone thinks of me now, why should I then?"

"Insane." Was all Naota could say, lost in admiration of the conviction in her eyes. The golden eyed girl was in front of him now. Infuriatingly she was still an inch taller than him.

"Guess you hate me for leaving you on Earth, huh?" She reached up and adjusted his tie, head bowed in feigned modesty.

Naota was surprised to find he really didn't. "I don't know. Not really. I mean, I couldn't really expect you to drag my young ass through the galaxy." Inwardly, Haroku smiled in victory.

"Well, you turned into quite the young officer, so I guess it all worked out for you."

"Yeah, I guess. So, how about you, you been alright since you left Earth?"

"I've been doing fine. Kinda miss fighting MM on Earth, away from all those prying eyes they can send some damn crazy robots after you."

Naota smiled. "Yeah, it was a wild time. So what now? You just follow after Atmosk? Is it hard to avoid the Brotherhood?"

"Nah, not too hard. It's like living on the road, only a little more low class and with the occasional fire fight. But that's all part of the fun." She said.

"Sounds like a blast." Naota wasn't sure if he was sarcastic or not.

"It is." The fugitive took a planned moment to look into Naota's eyes.

"So.. How about it?"

"How about what?"

"Wanna be a pirate?"

"What?"

"I'm serious this time. Want to be free and hunted with me?"

Naota looked away. That was what he wanted. Even if he didn't admit it to himself it had been the reason he came to space. But now.. He fingered the thread of his jacket, feeling the rough cloth. "I can't. I made my choice. My commission is up in three years. If I haven't caught you by then, we'll see."

She dropped his tie. "You really have grown up, Takun." She whispered. With out a look back she began to walk toward the edge of the galaxy. "Well, let's get back to our respective roles, Lieutenant." She stopped on the edge.

"Oh yeah. Here ya go." She took his revolver from her pocket. "I don't like it. Too boxy to be a ladies piece." She tossed it back to him and stepped over the edge. Naota caught the gun and watched her disappear over the side. He holstered the gun and followed her. Taking one last look around, he stepped off the edge.

He emerged back into the world, gasping for breath. He struggled to the side of the pool and heaved himself out. His clothes were soaked, freezing. He rolled onto his back and stared at the billowing smoke above him.

"What the fuck was that?" He shivered. He rolled and pushed himself to his knees, arms shaking. This was bad. He only had a few minutes in these soaked furs before he fell to hypothermia. A monk had told him once that the reflecting pool was used by new monks to gain a closer understanding of the gods. Hallucinogens? Was that the explanation for what had just happened?

The sounds of an engine coming to life ripped through his thoughts. Naota shot to his feet instantly. Haroku had started her bass. She was standing on the other side of the garden, the Jahti on his knees before her. She raised the Ric'.

""Haroku!" He called. But it was too late. She swung for the fences. The deep musical sound of the bass colliding with his head filled the garden. The Jahti flew from the impact, crashing hard into the wall. A torrent of rubble landed on top of him. Haroku smiled.

Naota stopped mid stride. He had failed. The Jahti had died beneath a wall of stone. "Haroku. What did you do?" He asked. He had seen her do plenty of immoral things before, but this was pure murder.

"Just watch." Was all she said. As spoke, the collapsed stones began to fall inward, as if there was a hollow where the Jahti used to be. No, not a hollow, something pulling the stones in, stealing them. Red light began to creep from the cracks.

_Clink-clink-clink._

"He's coming." She whispered. "You can feel it, can't you?" Naota nodded. He could feel him, more terrible and more powerful than anything he had ever run across. And Haroku meant to have that power. The pink haired girl's eyes positively gleamed. "And this time, Takun, I won't let you take him away."

There was a sudden ripping noise, and the smoke was whisked away in an instant, lying bare the blue sky above. A deep rumble came from the ground beneath them, and then the wall just disappeared. The wind picked up, blowing or being drawn toward Atmosk.

Everything exploded outward, and the phoenix that was Atmosk roared, taking wing above them.

"Behold! The Crimson King!" Haroku exclaimed, arms held wide. Naota just stared upwards, aware of the world destroying power contained in that being. The Crimson King. And if Haroku had her way, it would soon be a crimson queen. And then what? What would she do with that power? Naota loved her, but the thought of her with that power made him shiver in a way that had nothing to do with his wet clothes.

"I'm sorry, Haroku, I can't let you." He said.

"No Quarter, Takun." Haroku took her bass into her hands.

"No, none." He said.

And she made her move. He raised his guitar to block, but she instead planted her feet on the fret board and launched herself toward Atmosk. The force sent Naota backwards, his calves digging deep troughs in the dirt.

She hung in the air in front of the astral being, staring into those fiery eyes. There was a pulse, and a great force came forward from Atmosk's eyes. But Haroku would not be moved. She stared back at those eyes larger than her body uncaringly, happier than Naota suspected she had been in a long time. If happy was a word than one applied to Haroku.

She held out the arm with the bracelet on it like a falconer. "HIle! Hile beast, to me!" She cried, mouth opening in a smile as spoke. Amazingly, the enormous bird moved closer. She spread her fingers, reaching for Atmosk's nose ring, the larger twin of the one on her wrist.

A little bit closer and she would have it. Her other hand brought the bass back, still purring, ready to strike.

Once again, Naota stopped her. Not sure how he got up to the atmosphere, he grabbed her bass and pulled. The spell broken, Atmosk's beak opened. Both them got one terrified look inside that gaping maw before he unleashed a shriek that sent them flying into the desert.

Naota landed dazed. His first memory was the grit of the sand sticking to his wet clothing. Then it was the fact that he was freezing to death. He curled into a ball on side his side and clutched his shaking hands to his chest.

In the distance ahead of him he saw Haroku stand. She looked around, and he tried to stand or call out. All that he managed to do was exhale. The ground shifted like someone pulled a blanket out from beneath him. He landed with a thud and looked up to see a red light flash to the sky. They had been knocked beyond the horizon of the temple, but not too far to see Atmosk take to the atmosphere. The wind picked up, bearing down toward the pirate king. Sand began to pile up against his back. He tried to stand but couldn't, could only curl himself tighter. A stream of matter began to flow from where the wind converged and Atmosk, where it swirled in a spiral before being absorbed. The Pirate King was stealing this planet.

He managed to raise his head to find Haroku. The alien was looking around again. He tried desperately to cry out but all he could do was fill the air with stuttering puffs of breath. The girl whistled, and in a second her yellow Vespa appeared.

She grabbed the handle bars and took one last look around. Naota tried to raise a hand. But the wind was carrying the sand around him. His hand managed to make it slightly over his head. Naota noticed for the first time it was a deep blue with patches of black.

Haroku did a quick 360, and did he imagine he heard his name over the wind? Then she mounted the Vespa. Naota found his voice, weak and wavering. "Don't.. don't.." He chocked, his whole body trembling. "Not.. don't leave me here." He dropped his dead hand.

The Vespa began to move upwards, becoming just a speck of light in the sky. For a second Naota could only stare with unfocused eyes. It was over. She had left again.

"Damn it." He whispered. The wind picked up. So close, so close damn it. He had even allowed himself to hope. There had been no reason to, but just the thought of it.. God damn it.

His body was beyond trembling, almost seizing. He brain informed him, with some detachment, that he was likely in some kind of shock. There was nothing left to do but lie down and watch this train wreck burn.

Maybe he could warp himself back to _The Jet Stream Wild, _but the shock of suddenly appearing in that boiler would kill him.

"Damn it." He whispered again, watching the bright point of light draw closer to Atmosk, to her goals. Maybe she would capture him before he stole the planet. Then Naota would freeze to death, forgotten in this wasteland. The sand would cover him and eventfully someone would find a pile of bones under a dune. "Damn it."

A gust of wind blew the cover of sand off his guitar. He tried to reach it. He shakily extended his arms with the dead hands attached. He managed to slip one hand underneath the neck. Even managed to let it lie in his palm. But it was no good. His hand was gone.

He rested his head against the sand. Underneath him he could hear the crust shifting. He'd get to hear the planet end. To listen to the world break, everything hidden being let free. Chaos and ruin. The skin peeling and ripping open. The hounds of hell being howling as they were let loose to feed before they became part of the collection of stuff in Atmosk's head.

And Haroku would leave without knowing. After he followed her, been so close to her. After everything turned out just the way he would predict it in his most optimistic moments, she would travel on and leave him again. So Godamn close.

And why did that hurt so much. He was going to die in a few moments, for God's sake. Because he was weak. Because years later, he still couldn't get her out of his mind. Even after she told him she didn't want anything to do with him, he still wondered at night what she was doing, and was it so wrong to want to see her again? Why wanting the one person who made things different a weakness? Because that was all he had to feed off of, that hope that somehow things might become extraordinary again. And of course his hopes had been dashed by the routine time after time.

Bitter tears trickled down his face. He wanted to stand, wanted to move. But all he could feel was the cold seeping into his chest. His limbs were heavy, lead. He tried to move his legs, but they felt like they were tied down with string.

He threw all his weight into it and managed to roll onto his face. He tried to push himself up. He couldn't. "I don't wanna be here." He said weakly. "I don't want to be here." He wanted to be back in the nice warm sleeping bag him and Haroku had shared when he briefly left home, experiencing the apex of childhood rebellion. No plans, just pack your bags and run.

"I don't want to die." He said. "I don't want to die." But die he would. He had come as far as he could. He had failed again, and now Haroku was leaving him behind again. And if he did manage to survive, it would just happen somewhere else. It was fate. Destiny. What ever you called it. Predestination. A series of personality quirks that would always lead to the same outcome. Haroku would leave and he would die here, cold, alone and forgotten. Fate. He closed his eyes and slowly slipped away. Something jabbed him in the ribs but he didn't care.

The revolver. The one Haroku took. The one she gave back in that hallucination. But it was there, he was lying on it. It had been real. The offer of the road, all of it. Real.

"No. Not here. I'm not done. I haven't even started. The hell with fate." Naota's voice was surprisingly confident inside his own head. He clutched his hands into fists. There was a subtle twanging noise. He drew his knees under him. Again the twanging noise. He pushed himself up. There was stiff resistance, he could feel strings running across his back and tying him down like Gulliver. He put his back into it and felt them break. There was a loud ripping noise as he rose to his knees.

Naota wiped the sand off his face with the back of his hand and spit. He was no longer cold. The red flames lapping at his clothes took care of that. He grabbed his guitar and stood with ease. At his feet was a black shape in his form. Empty space that looked like him curled up on the ground. A vacuum where the Universe expected him to be. Correction, not a vacuum, a hole in the destiny of the Universe.

Naota spit in disgust. Fate and that stupid hole where it thought he belonged can stay here. He had much better things to do. He was going ahead. He looked up at Atmosk. There was no oxygen up there and he had no way up. That didn't matter.

His gripped tightened on his Flying V. "I won't be left behind ever again!" He swore. "I won't be left behind and I'll never let anyone else decide anything for me! This life belongs to me alone, and I'll get everything I want out of it!"

He crouched. "I.." He yelled so Haroku would hear him a thousand miles above. "I CAN FLY!"

And he did, kicking up a sand storm that covered an entire hemisphere behind him.

Haroku stopped in shock as Naota's yell sliced through her head. She turned around to see a red dot gaining hard. "I can fly?" She asked, confused. Behind the light the planet began to crumble, coming apart at the hinges, twisting together.

And still that red light pressed on. Her bracelet started going off wildly. She turned to look toward her goal. Atmosk was close, but she wouldn't make it before the light caught up with her. She turned around to face it. And then Naota was there.

It was Haruko's turn to stare in awe. Naota was crackling with N.O. just like the last time he stopped her, but that had been Atmosk's power. And Atmosk was free, which meant this was himself. He clothes were ripped, he panted slightly. But it was his eyes that stopped her.

There was no doubt or uncertainty in them. But that was avoiding the main issue. Haroku stared in awe because for the first time in her life she saw something that she knew wouldn't be moved. The sheer will behind those eyes was enough to be an oddity in the entire galaxy.

"Ta-kun?" She asked. As she spoke, Atmosk finished his chore. The planet was gone. The Pirate King searched for his next destination. Haroku watched with disinterest. "I wouldn't have made it in time anyway. Guess I can't blame you for this one, Ta-kun."

"It wouldn't be good for you to be seen leaving with me. Go back to your ship, L.T. I'll see you later." She slipped her goggles on and pushed them back on her face with her finger. "I mean it this time, swear to God."

And Naota believed her.


	6. Slight Return

"Hold on. This will hurt more than anything has before." - William Fitzsimmons

Scotch. Liquid gold. It sloshed in the glass, burned his throat, ignited a fire in his soul. Noata stared at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, his bagged eyes, cold. They slowly tightened into anger.  
His hair was unruly, his bangs stuck up in the air by sweat. His body was all lean muscle. A soldier's build, unable to compete with an athlete, but with more stamina than most people could imagine.  
Where he is didn't matter. The case didn't matter. The people around him didn't matter. Soldiers in uniform, derelicts, hookers, crooks. Another bar, another chance to grow disillusioned, more background noise. He ordered another round, took count in his head and pushed his definition of alcoholic back some more.  
Outside the wind slammed against the windows. Steam heat rose from the discarded jackets of the patrons.  
Wordlessly a man took the seat next to him. His suit was so nondescript as to frustrate all description. His locked eyes with Naota through the mirror. Eyes green and mirthful. A lie so blatant it's more honest than the truth. The man lit a cigar with a battered Zippo. Through the smoke he gazed at Noata with good natured approval. Noata's drink arrived, along with one for the man with the cigar, though he did not order one. Noata met his eyes in the mirror with out passion and took a drink.  
"Are you done wasting time?" The man asked.  
"Don't think I caught your name." Noata stated.  
"Not the issue at hand, Lieutenant Nadaba."  
Noata glanced over him again. The man's countenance was so vague it was impossible to take him in as a whole, only details. Like the general outline of what a man should be.  
"A spook then." Noata slowly reached for his cigarettes with out breaking eye contact.  
"You speak truer than you know. But I've not come here on the government's business."  
Noata was wearing his gun. He stuck the smoke in his mouth and began to slowly move his hand to his hip.  
He didn't blink and there was a lighter in front of his face. He let out the breath that had caught in his throat, readjusted his hasty grip on the gun and inhaled the smoke. The man snapped his wrist and with a click the lighter was gone and disapeared with out the hand ever approaching a pocket.  
"The smart move, but you won't be needing that."  
"Who the hell are you." Noata's cigarette danced on his lips.  
"Again, that's neither here nor there. The only thing you need to know is we have.. converging interests."  
Noata said nothing.  
"It's not a woman you're after." The man with the cigar said. Noata's blood went cold. In the bar, rounds were ordered. Voices were raised in insult. The hookers sauntered past in their heels, while men stared after them like hungry eels.  
"And what is 'it'?"  
"Something.. else. Something that requires you to the pursue the object of my designs."  
"You want Atmosk."  
The cigar smoking man considered the drink in his hand. "Yes, that can be considered an accurate statement for our purposes."  
Noata searched for an ashtray and found his companion rolling his cigar in one that had not been there when the bartender left.  
"I've been suspended from that case."  
"And put on to every shit hole where a drunk saw a red light around the time of a murder."  
Noata grunted. "And what third party is interested in Atmosk, or is it personal?"  
"Oh yes. Very personal. I have a sporting interest in what becomes of his gift. More so than him, or you, or Raharu. More so than your intrest in PO2 Raharu."  
"I believe you said it wasn't a woman I'm after."  
Noata swore he saw the light glint off the man's teeth. "Did I?"  
"Word play. Cute. I'll bite. What is she, if not a woman?"  
"Taking things so seriously is quite unbecoming of you, if I may say so." He set down his empty glass and shook his head. As soon as the glass touched the bar a new one was placed in front of him and Noata. Noata observed the way the bartender failed to make eye contact before confirming his glass was empty. The man next to him took a healthy swig.  
"Reality is thin around her, as you may have noticed if you weren't so damn literal. But I trust you to figure the rest out." "Thanks pal. You have a 'sporting intrest'? Do you get ten bucks if he destroys the galaxy? What's the over/under on everyone dying?"  
More fake smiles and cigar smoke. "He's done well, Atmosk. He was a good choice for a pirate king. I don't want his power. I want some one with some fresh ideas in the driver's seat."  
A glass shattered behind them. Shadows with angry voices stood. Noata sighed. "Now I know you're full of shit." He mumbled around an unlit cigarette. As he breathed in he tasted smoke. Clutching the lighter in his pocket he stared at the merrily glowing cherry of his cigarette.  
"Okay. Fine. You're slick. I'll admit." He almost slurred. "So what the hell do you want with me?"  
The smoke cleared around the man's head. He was smiling in earnest for the first time. It was a terrible thing, promising pain. The shadows in the bar exploded in rage. Some one swore violence. Some one else didn't think twice and with a dull, sick crack the first one went down hard, head bouncing off the floor. The rest retreated to dark corners and back rooms, merging into the architecture of the place. The fallen man lie burbling in his blood, then that too faded into the back ground.  
"Your superiors weren't happy you lost Atmosk."  
Noata's hand tightened around his glass, but he stayed quiet.  
"No worries about the people killed, an entire world gone, though. And they questioned your sanity after your report. No action taken on that, either. Still too valuable an asset. And you're still alive, I'd say you caught a hell of a break."  
Noata took a drink with shaking hand. The man's eyes flashed mirth.  
"I do hope you realize you can't blame your self. Sure, if you had taken a different course of action they would still be alive, but you had no way of knowing. No way at all."  
Noata became aware of pain in his fingers. He slammed his cigarette in to the ashtray. The man didn't move, only sat evaluating him through the smoke. Noata made it very plain when he unholstered his gun. He knew he was drunk. He let the piece hang by his thigh. His whole arm shook. Breath came in shallow gasps. He stared at the spot behind the bar where his eyes and head naturally fell. The world swayed and darkened.  
Noata watched from somewhere in the back of his mind as he slowly, deliberately, raised his arm until his gat was an inch from his companion's eye. Something else was in charge of him now, something new, not the drink. Noata placed his thumb on the hammer and pulled it back.  
"One. Fucking. Reason." He barely managed to breathe. The man leaned in until his eyelashes brushed the unwavering barrel. Noata tried desperately to find some voice of reason in his mind. Nothing. He couldn't live with himself if he did. He wanted nothing more in the world.  
"Because the man behind me has a wife and child." He whispered harshly for only Noata, like an angry parent to a foolish child. "Keep it there, it means nothing to me, but pay some fucking attention."  
"Things are going to start happening very fast. Terrible things, great things, things that you _will_ be part of. And I need you to get your shit together. What's done is done, and can never be undone, not matter if you linger here, absorbed in your self pity, and drink yourself dead. No one cares how fucked up you are. You have a fucking job to do. You want to turn that piece on yourself, do it when you've got nothing left to do."  
Noata lowered the piece. Stared. He reached over with his other hand and grasped the man's drink lightly. He raised an eyebrow in challenge and relinquished the glass. He drained it one gulp and followed it with his own. He wiped his chin with his shirt sleeve, then holstered the gun. "Where do I start?" "Maybe you should ask questions, detective. What the other NO officers have been doing. Why they took so long to establish that division. Who else wants Atmosk and what they know."  
Noata stood up and grabbed his jacket. The adrenal dump had left him sober and shaken. He buttoned it completely and grabbed his hat off the bar, jamming it on his head. With out a look back he walked to the door. No sooner did he turn the knob then the wind ripped it open. The steam outside swirled in the street lights. Snow was general in the cityscape and filled the air. He didn't bother fighting the door to close it again.

A man sat causally in the back, cigar clenched in his lips. Blood was beginning to pool at his feet. As Noata stepped back in to the world, he raised his glass in salute.  
"Behold the Hurricane." He toasted. He waved the glass and the door slammed shut with a bang.


	7. Satellites

"I want back in on the Atmosk case." Noata sat in front his CO. He was clean shaven, in uniform, sober and didn't care who knew it. "I've come closer to capturing him than any one else in this division, and Atmosk has only grown stronger since the last incident. I'm needed out there."

"Well.." Henderson leaned back in his chair. "I agree, and would gladly reassign you, Lt., but it isn't that simple. Every one has a boss, even me. And my superiors would require some explanation of your report before you were returned to duty." He cocked an eye brow.

Noata nodded. The thing about Henderson's superiors was a lie, but one he appreciated, giving him a chance to explain while keeping it informal. But, he noted, they had, in fact, questioned his sanity. "Hallucinogenics in the reflecting pool. Before I realized I was under the influence my report had already been submitted."

Henderson nodded. "Questions could be raised about your reliability in similar situations.." He led. The words were there but his tone dropped all pretense that it was some one else asking.

Noata made sure there was no doubt in his eyes before answering. "After the loss of the world involved, I can only be more determined that the apprehension of Atmosk as soon as possible holds priority over any other cases."

Henderson considered that. Noata met his gaze unflinchingly. After an eternity Henderson reached forward and pressed call on the intercom. His secretary's voice, for once free of sarcasm and scorn piped in. "Yes, sir?"

"Frank, please prepare the brief on the wiretap we were going to give to Patel for Lt. Nandaba when he leaves."

"Yes, sir." Henderson switched off the intercom.

"Let's get you caught up."

The secretary handed Noata the file with out looking up from the paper he was working on. Noata took the file, but stood there uncertainly. The secretary looked up.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"No parting shot?" Noata wondered aloud.

"No, I'm saving all the good cirrhosis ones for your funeral. Commander Henderson already authorized me to put it online so some one will actually hear it."

"Wow. Fuck you."

"Tip your waitress."

Back on the Jet Stream Wild, Noata went over the brief. Medical Meccanica's main communication hub would be under going repairs soon. This gave them the opportunity to place a wiretap on some of there most important messages unnoticed. To that end, two operatives, Technical Sergeants Veder and Fallon, had been placed undercover to recon area for exploitable weaknesses. He was to link up with the operatives, deliver the final list of keywords, and over see the planting of the tap. Method and execution of the placement would be at his discretion.

Noata finished and stared out his window. He became entranced by points of light that flowed past. Found himself lost in the unbelievable size and longevity of space. Even though he had been passing through the galaxy at whim for years now, he didn't feel like he was really traversing millions of light years an hour. He got on a ship, waited, and showed up somewhere new. The scale of galaxy was impossible to grasp. He wondered if people who grew up with space travel could do it.

He found he was searching for his lighter. Scowling, he took the cigarette out of his mouth and stuck it back in the box. Five a day. That was the limit. He wiped the sweat off his brow.

He got up to walk the ship in his undershirt, hands in pockets. As he entered the bridge, he noticed a stir in the crew. People looked up at him, then at each other. The communications officer came up to him with an air of unusual professionalism, her clip board as always with her.

"Sir, can I assume you will be making your return voyage with us?" She asked.

"That's correct." Noata nodded.

"And continue to employ us for your future travel?"

"I plan to. This ship has a good record of not having any outstanding orders I can't over ride." He acknowledged. And truthfully, he enjoyed the little asylum as break from the order of the Space Police Brotherhood.

"Well, sir, I feel obliged to mention that under the regulations of command, you've been here long enough that, if you wanted to, could officially take command of the ship."

"I could what?" Noata asked, confused.

"Take command, sir. We have you listed as ranking officer in the ships log, but could officially change that to commanding officer." She explained.

"I'm not a naval officer, Chief." He explained. "I can't command a ship."

"We don't expect you to. We can run the ship fine ourselves, but Naval Command has seemingly forgotten us, and having an actual officer attached to us again would make things easier for the ship." She explained.

"Again? What happened to the last officer?" Noata asked in suspicion.

"Oh, they died."

"They?" Noata asked again.

"But we won't let that happen again, sir."

Noata sighed. "And what does the crew think?"

"The crew fully supports you, sir."

Noata looked over the bridge. Everyone on shift was staring at him, but not hostility. "Alright, Chief. I'll do it."

The com chief smiled. "Congratulations, sir."

A wild cheer filled the bridge. Bottles were produced from hiding places everywhere. All of them in different stages of use, Noata noticed. Someone pressed a bottle into his hand. The weapons officer reached under his station and rolled out a keg. Noata could only smile and take a swig. It felt good to relax.

When the ship reached it's destination orbit, Noata sent the designated signal to the ground team. With in minutes the return signal reached them, along with a location and time along with instructions to appear incognito.

The ship took up geo sync over the target. Noata changed into jeans and an undershirt, and sticking his gun in his waist band, disappeared in a flash of red.

Ogre and Babycakes stood in an alley. They wore identical gray jumpsuits and had a third one at hand. Ogre smoked a cigarette and checked his watch as Babycakes kept look out. There was a red light and both moved on instinct.

Ogre closed the distance as threw a hand over the new arrival's mouth before as he tried to give the sign. He quickly gave the counter sign in a hushed whisper. With out looking he stuck out his hand to snag the jumpsuit Babycakes had thrown out of midair.

"Keep quiet, throw this on, we gotta move." Ogre said, thankful the new arrival recovered his senses quickly and got to work. Behind them, Babycakes kept his head on a swivel. In a moment the new guy had thrown the jumpsuit over his clothes. Before he had time to ask Ogre said "Follow me. Not too close." And set off for the street.

Babycakes gave them a thirty count, then followed. He was careful to take on the air of someone just getting off his shift and headed home. He took a different route then Ogre, less direct. As he walked through the streets filled with there uniform, utilitarian houses, he kept an eye out for night patrols. His papers and cover were solid, but who they just snatched up would be an problem.

He expected at any moment for the unnatural, mandated silence of the city streets to be shattered by gunfire, or the pop a flare signaling 'bail out.'

But it didn't. He reached the tenant building, distinguishable only by it's number, in peace. Inside the room they had been using for the op he worked the hitch out of his shoulder before throwing on the light. As expected, Ogre's voice and shit eating grin were the first the things he noticed.

"Look at who the fuck they sent us." Babycakes looked across the room to find the kid they had pulled off some rock ages ago.

"Holy fuckin' hell. Wondered when we'd run into you." He told Noata as he pulled a beer out of the fridge. Judging by what was left of Ogre's beer they had beat him here by five minutes.

"Yeah, I thought you guys were Transpo. Since when did you become spies?" Noata asked as Babycakes crossed the room and dropped into the couch next to Ogre.

"We got you to thank for that. You're boss, Henderson, somehow got wind of the fact we knew about your guitar. Figured it was better to have us on board with him then to be left to our own devices." Babycakes explained.

Ogre leaned forward. "And we ain't spies, neither. We're what's known as At Large."

"At large?" Noata asked.

"He doesn't know what that phrase means, I apologize." Babycakes interjected.

"Fuck you, bitch."

Babycakes smiled at the insult and turned back to Noata. "What we are, despite my companion's fucked up brain disease, is your bosses personal intelligence service. He wants shit done quietly, and we don't work well within the system, so it works out."

Ogre lit up and Noata had to stop himself for reaching for his pack. "So you two went straight from transportation to intel? Bit of a jump." He asked.

"Not really. We did some shit before, combat engineers in the Occupational Forces then signals intelligence until we got kicked out of that." Ogre explained, grinning a little at his mention of their expulsion.

"The phrase 'Loose Cannon' was thrown around a few times." Babycakes smiled.

"Fuck 'em. We just party too hard for 'em."

"Too true."

Noata found himself smiling. "Should I even tell you what I've been up to?" He asked.

Ogre shook his head. "No, we already know."

"Atmosk attack.." Babycakes started.

"Yeah." Noata took a swig. "It sucked." Babycakes and Ogre merely nodded, and Noata got the strange sense that they understood him perfectly with only those two words. "So, Occupational Forces.. is it as busy as the rumors?" He had to ask.

Ogre shrugged. "Don't follow the rumors, but, yeah. Lotta places kickin' off against the Grand Galactic Government. Same basic complaints, self determination, Galactic Government's corrupt, what ever. Valid points really."

Babycakes picked the thought up. "Yeah, but the rebellions lack cohesion. If they started banding together, pick a leader or something, then we'd have a real problem."

The conversation drifted off. Noata felt obliged to bring up why they were all here. "So, about this wire tap."

"Oh, yeah, that." Babycakes said, reaching behind the couch and removing something that looked like a cell phone. "This is it. This whole planet is a huge Medical Meccanica Com hub. Right now, there's a nanotube above ground for over haul. We hook this thing into a splitter, it scans all traffic for keywords and forwards those messages back to the boss. Practically no signature in the system, and once the line gets buried, no chance of finding it physically."

Babycakes trailed off as he noticed Ogre staring at him. "Should we?" He asked, nodded at Noata.

"Should we what?" Cakes asked, the both of them ignoring Noata.

"Give him a line. You know he ain't getting the whole word."

Babycakes nodded. "Alright, I feel you." He turned back to Noata. "Now, if you happen to be, say, two former SigInt guys who know how these things work, you could add in an extra line." He picked up the wiretap and tapped the screen a few times. "So if you put the number to your PDA in, and a separate set of key words, you'd get those messages sent to you."

"Or you could change the registry that gets sent back to command. All up to you." Ogre injected. "As long as you don't make it obvious."

Noata picked up the wiretap and got accustomed to it's interface. "What should I put in for my keywords?" He asked, punching in his PDA's number.

"Hell, kid. You're fucking this pig. We're just holding the legs." Babycakes explained.

Noata looked at him. "O-kay.."

Ogre got up from the couch and stretched. "We're gonna leave for the plant in a few hours, so take your time. I know the plan says for you to lead the patrol, me and Cakes got this.."

"Yeah, no offense, but we've been doing this together for years, and you're an unknown element. Not saying you can't handle it, but we got a system down. And we ain't coming back here, so feel free to take off as soon as you get done. Don't sweat it though, this is a small outfit, we'll run into you again." Babycakes said, slapping him on the back as Ogre disappeared into the back.

"Oh, and one more thing. We're gonna see everything anyway, so don't worry about that."

Noata sat in the dark, staring at the wiretap. His list, except for one instance, the same as commands. He figured he had a right to know the whole thing, not just what they fed him. Just one last decision to make.

He walked over to the fridge and got a beer. Taking a drink, he leaned against the cold door of the icebox. He didn't stop himself as he reached for his cigarettes. Stared out the window as he inhaled the stale smoke. From here, he could see into the back room. Ogre and Babycakes were passed out in the least relaxed positions possible. Straight as boards, arms and ankles crossed. Even asleep they both exuded an aura of readiness. They seemed completely different from the laid back jokers they usually were. And somehow peaceful, despite the fact they would be risking there lives in just a few hours.

It was a lot easier to imagine these two, relaxed in their readiness, trusting it to keep them alive more than any walls, as two young men who met covered in dirt, carrying rifles and packs of explosives through a war zone.

Cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, Noata walked back to the table and with a couple taps took Haroku's name off the command's list and put it in his. He finished his smoke, dropped in the beer can, and disappeared back to the ship.

Back on the Jet Stream Wild, Noata turned in his report to command and received orders to standby. That finished, he began to sign every supply request form the ship handed him. Most, he noted, were for alcohol and tobacco.

Two days later the first message came in. Routine traffic. MM had figured out a formula to predict Atmosk's movements. As he stole more and more, his power increased. The more his power increased, the more massive the objects he stole. Attached was a lists of systems in his current range. Where Atmosk went would give a good idea of his reasoning and goals.

Noata put down his PDA and exhaled cigarette number three of the day. He was still struggling on five. It seemed like the noose was closing in Atmosk. The only question would be who got there first.

He decided to wait. Command would be getting the same message, and if he moved on it before being ordered, he'd tip his hand.

It took six hours before he was ordered to take up station over a planet orbiting a binary star. The orders only mentioned "intelligence" had indicated Atmosk might show up there. Noata pulled the system up on his PDA. It the sight MM had picked closest to Atmosk's last known location. Even if they weren't telling him the whole story, they at least put him at the safe bet for the next Atmosk attack.

Noata gave the destination to the Comm Chief, who had become his handler in all leadership issues and de facto XO, and settled in for the voyage.

Halfway there he got the next message. As soon as he pulled it up, he could tell it was different.

FLASH TRAFFIC/ALL COMMANDS/HAROKU HARURAHA, CLASS 1A FELON, EN ROUTE TO MINERAL SUBSTATION BETELGEUSE/SUBJECT IS EXTREMLY DANGEROUS/TERMINATE ON SIGHT/FLASH TRAFFIC

"Fuck!" Noata swore and tore out of his quarters. By the time he got to the bridge, he regained some of his composure. He immediately went to the navigator's station.

"Nav, how long would a sidetrack to the MM mine in Betelgeuse take?"

The navigator did a quick calculation on his screen. "About two days, sir. There and back on course."

"Roger." Noata straightened up. If it was any other ship in the fleet, he wouldn't do what he was about to do. He did the best he could to summon a command voice.

"Comm, cease all transmissions of our position to Naval Command. Inform them we hit magnetic interference from a solar maximum. We'll be going dark to fix the engines and computers. We'll be up and back on track in three days."

The bridge went dead silent. A few smiled. Someone laughed. Everyone looked to the Comm Chief. Without missing a beat she reached under her station and ripped a fuse out. "Right away, sir." As she began issuing orders, Noata held her eyes for a moment. It was the only thanks he could give her in the situation.

"Nav, set course for the mine. Intel, as soon as we get in range I want everything MM transmits on that planet, especially radio." He ordered. The bridge got to work.

Noata sat at his desk. It would have to be quick. They couldn't linger for more then a day and still fool command. Hell, they probably weren't fooling anyone. But hopefully he could disguise his intentions enough so that no one would ask questions with out facts.

One day. One day. What could he do in one day? Warn her, maybe, that is was a trap. And if she knew? Well, she probably did and would go anyway. Or if she didn't show?

Roll with it. He decided he'd just roll with it. He lit number four and waited.

On station above the mine. Noata stared at it in the view screen. Watched in the visible and infrared bands. The mine itself, several support buildings. A space elevator, several empty tiers, flat discs along the band of the actual elevator for mid air offloading.

The microwave comm intercepts started coming in first. Simple statements for off planet command. They were under attack. That Haroku was there, somewhere. That the trap was proceeding as planned.

On the visible spectrum a support building exploded. Noata's eyes darted to the infrared image just in time to see a figure dart to the ground floor of the space elevator. Haroku.

Radio intercepts began to filter in. Short range, tactical communications internal to the MM personal on the ground. They crackled over the headset Noata had pressed to one ear.

"3-Bravo, radio check!"

Silence.

"All 3's. Bravo is non responsive. Alpha, find out who's still alive in that building. Charlie, sit rep, over."

"3, this is 3-Charlie. The target has retreated to the elevator, looks like she's going up. She looks wounded, sir."

"Roger. All stations: We're gonna stop the elevator at the 15k foot pad. Keep her up there until the big guns arrive. ETA, 30 minutes on the ships.

A chorus of rogers. Noata put down the head set. Half an hour. The pad she was on was blocked from sight by the rest of the tower. He couldn't warp to it.

"Sir, we've picked up several MM ships and Mech's mobilizing on the area." Someone informed him. He barely heard. Half an hour and Haroku would be blown straight to hell. A plan popped into his head.

He straightened up and looked to the Comm Chief. "Chief, on me." He said, walking toward the deserted passage way out of the bridge. "I gotta run this by you."

After he had explained his plan, the Comm Chief just stared at him. "That's fucking nuts." She said. Noata nodded.

"Don't worry about my part, can the ship do it?" He asked.

"Shit sir, let me ask the deck crew. That'd be the only hold up." She said, stepping to the door. In a second the deck chief emerged, a balding man made of ropey muscle. Noata outlined his request to him.

"So, you want us to drop the ship into a skip off trajectory, then you're going to slam in to the objective area at terminal, and then return to the ship. The ship, which I feel compelled to mention, is rated for such maneuvers only in emergencies, and hasn't been dry docked and over hauled in oh, 15 or so years? If you want to kill yourself, you have a gun you know." He stated.

"Can you do it?" Noata asked.

"God damn right I can."

Noata nodded to the Comm Chief. "Chief, get it done. I'll be in the tube. Open it as soon as we max out surface speed."

"Yes, sir." She said to his back, as Noata took off towards his room. He grabbed his guitar, threw it on his back and made his way to the torpedo tube.

Twenty-five minutes to go. Inside the torpedo tube, Noata took his guitar in hand. The ship began to creak as it began it's dive into the atmosphere. Noata put his hand to the side of the tube to feel the skin heat up from entry.

He began to play. The way Haroku had said, to change the world around him. Broad chords at first, lowering his coefficient of friction so he didn't burn up like a match. If his plan failed in anyway, he was dead. Oh well. He wasn't afraid. He had too much to do to make this to work to waste time being afraid. Later he would describe it as being in his element.

The door opened, and the unequal air pressure shot him out of the ship like a cannon. The light blinding him, the speed ripping the air from his lungs. Unable to breathe, he played. The air slowed down around as he was able to breathe. Above him, a gigantic crack made his ears ring as the Jet Stream Wild went supersonic as it's began it's escape of the planet.

He was in blackness. The cold was numbing, but he'd only be here for a few minutes. Below him, an entire hemisphere was laid out before him. Ahead, where the rim of rock fell away, he could see a layer of blue sky between the planet and space.

He kept playing, faster as he tried to keep himself alive. Little adjustments until he thought he got it right. He was making it up on the fly. The planet was slowly rotating under him. Trees gave way to rock gave way to sea to come back to trees. He knew the planet wasn't moving, it was him who was falling with enough ground speed to circle the planet in minutes.

He looked up. The indescribable complexity of space turned above him. No matter how many pictures and video feeds he'd seen of it, nothing compared to the naked eye. If things went tits up, that's what he wanted to get one last look at.

He hit the terminator and the sun disappeared. Below him now was a patch work of man made light. It spanned continents, dotted oceans. As complex as the stars above him. He stopped playing to check his watch. Seventeen minutes. He had time for one more orbit before he had to make his move.

Something warm ran into Haroku's eye. She wiped most it away, her glove coming back smeared red. She tried to wipe it on her jacket but it just picked up more red. She leaned on her bass and looked around.

MM would find her soon. She had a moment though. She arched her back to relieve the pain in her ribs, closed her eyes to breath in the wind through ragged gasps. Pure air. Her eyes opened calmly, and she leaned forward again with a soft sigh.

She smiled contentedly. Her body was only tenuously connected to her brain. Loose, warmed up limbs that felt like empty gas tanks. Muscles running beautifully on fumes, the way she knew they were meant to. She had thrown her self completely into this failed endeavor, and would go down happy. She slid in and out of lucidity.

It felt great. Number one. It felt like wandering the streets at dawn, wondering where she was gonna sleep when she came down. The dirty bookstore with the spare room had closed. The ex who didn't ask questions was back in prison, and she forgot to pick up a new boyfriend for the night. She'd get pinched in a heart beat sleeping in a park during the day.

She would jaunt through the concrete and brick jungle that killed kids like her like it paid. The sheen of sweat and unfocused smile giving her away. Her ears still rang from the drums and guitar. On a whim, she wandered towards the dumpsters behind a gas station. Smiled, drifted out admiring a nice piece of graffiti. Snapped back when the sky exploded in her eyes and promptly emptied all the booze she drank and food she didn't eat on to the asphalt. Then bile, then nothing, then the lining of something inside her.

Wiping her mouth and spitting, she resumed walking where ever the hell she was going. The lighter stomach felt good enough to light up on. The menthol smoke hit the back of the throat she just ripped up like an electric shock.

There was the sudden realization that someone was in front of her. Some old woman, staring in disgust at the strung out skeleton in the leather jacket that reeked of sweat, dirt and drugs.

"The fuck you lookin' at?" Haroku snarled, before her eyes glazed over and she smiled her junky's smile. When she came back the woman was forgotten, and she continued walking, singing to her self.

Haroku caught her self humming some old song. Transcendent. That was the word for how she felt. That was the dragon she'd always be chasing, when time and space stopped mattering because the entirety of existence was within her.

In the eerie silence between the wind of high places, she saw a single black winged bird on the edge of the platform, gazing at her magnanimously, ready to receive her.

"I still got a little fight. You're gonna have to work for it, asshole." She challenged him, not sure if any sound came out of her mouth. The bird shifted it's head to gaze with its other eye. With out a sound it leapt into the air, getting caught in an updraft and seeming to hover in front of her. In her darkening vision she watched it tilt its self into the wind, the sun light striking and rippling along its glossy feathers. Behind the bird she could see the MM ships beginning to encircle her.

With an explosion of wings the bird took off directly over her head. Feathers caught in the wind began to flutter around her. Haroku lifted her face to the sun. Excluding a miracle, there wasn't long left. She allowed herself to smile happily. Soon she would put down her load, and be swept up by the black winged bird. And in sea of music and sex and drugs and violence and every other means she had used to validate her existence be delivered straight into the burning heart of God and be nothing.

A feather brushed her cheek and she opened her eyes. But first. She evaluated the trap surrounding her. She ripped the starter on her guitar, sending a life affirming jolt of pain through her ribs. But first, she had to do her best to kill everything and everyone in her path.

Noata was on his last shot. He could see the top half of the space elevator in front of him. Haroku was on the 15k foot platform. The platforms were spaced every five thousand feet up to thirty thousand. He needed to hit platform three out of six.

He was coming in too high, he noticed as soon as the first platform rose out of the horizon before him. He played again, lowering his speed, turning air friction back on.

Just a little high and still too fast. Perfect. He playing as fast as his fingers could move, no time for major adjustments now. He stayed in the higher frets, making several corrections a second. He couldn't claim he knew what he was doing. He just knew what note came next and somehow it all added up to a coherent piece.

He rolled on his side and began a series of S turns to slow him self down. The song he was composing on the fly was reaching its climax. Somehow he swore he could hear the guitar like an amp was hooked up directly to his brain.

He could see the platform. A dozen ships and Mechs from MM surrounded it, guns ready. He saw a hint of red, heard a familiar engine roar to life on the wind. He aimed for her. Played faster than ever. He dropped his pick, taping the strings with his fingers. If Haroku was wrong about changing things you cared about by playing, they were both dead. He lowered how much force would be transferred when he hit her. Two seconds till impact.

He threw the guitar behind his back Spread his arms. Haroku grew from a hint of color to a full sized woman in his vision in an instant. There was a flash of light and then he blacked out as he hit her.

He opened his eyes when the shock wave from the explosion on the platform reached him. He had beat the shells by inches. He was falling straight down now, his momentum carrying him off the other side of the platform and no further.

Haroku. He looked down. Saw only desert. There, red top and black leggings moving against the brown. Noata stream lined his body and shot after her. Tracers began to rip the air around him as MM found them. They cracked as they passed his head.

Something hit Noata just under the eye. Something liquid. He realized he was diving through her blood. He could see her clearly now. She was falling headfirst, eyes closed, blood leaking out of her abdomen leaving a trail of what space she had occupied. Her bass was bouncing off her back in the wind.

He reached out and grabbed her ankle. He pulled her back, and both their bodies turned perpendicular to the ground as he drew level with her. Eyes stinging from the wind, he wrapped his arms around her like a vise.

He concentrated on the mess decks of the Jet Stream Wild, and in a flash of red they were gone.

They appeared in the mess decks, still moving at substantial speed. But the Jet Stream Wild was moving in the same direction, and most of their speed canceled out. The rest of it was eliminated when they hit the cargo net the Comm Chief had rigged across the room.

They tumbled out of the net in a mess of limbs and instruments. Disorientated, Noata could only lie there as the medical crew swarmed them. Haroku was placed on a stretcher and taken to the infirmary.

The Comm Chief helped him to chair as the medics examined him. He assured them he was alright, just winded. He eventually convinced them to leave.

"Holy shit, sir. Holy shit." Was all the Comm Chief could manage to say.

"Give me a fucking smoke." Noata said. He lit it with a shaking hand. Even if his mind was still in business mode, his body was coming down hard from the adrenaline. The Comm Chief waited for him to have a few drags before continuing.

"Sir, if I may ask, who is she? Should we put her under watch?"

"No." Noata said. "She's a.. person of interest. Just let me know when she comes to. And get us the fuck out of here and back on course."

"Yes sir, of course. And you?"

"Me?'" Noata rose on shaky knees. "I'll be in my quarters. I need a fuckin' drink."

"If she wants to dance and drink all night,

Well, ain't no one gonna stop her.

She's goin' until the house lights come up

Or her stomach spills onto the floor."

- Against me!, Thrash Unreal

* * *

A/N: Two chapters and an epilogue left. Stick with me people.


	8. Deguassser

"But as for me, all I ever learned from love,  
was how to shoot someone who out drew you  
And it's not a cry you hear at night,  
and it's not some pilgrim who's claimed to have seen the light  
No, it's a cold and a very broken Hallelujah...  
Hallelujah."

-Leonard Cohen, "Hallelujah"

Only hours after he returned to ship, the squawk box in Naota's quarters crackled to life.  
"Sir, this is medical, we ah.. we tried to stop her.." The voice was filled with concern. Naota put down the unlit cigarette he had been staring at for the last half hour and walked to the door. He had no idea what was going to happen, but knew she was coming for him. He could hear footsteps approaching, and opened the door before she could.  
In a flurry of motion Haruko slammed him against the bulkhead and kicked the door shut behind her. With two hands she grabbed him by the collar. "The fuck you think you are, Naota!?" She yelled in rage, only inches from him.  
"The fuck? I saved your fucking life, you fucking psycho!" Naota roared back, become aware that she was still wearing the medical gown.  
"And who asked you to?"  
"Who asked me too? Shoulda just let you get killed out there, huh?" Naota responded. The fist on his collar tightened, and he saw the tiniest flash of hurt cross Haruko's face.  
"Yes, you idiot! Is your head really that empty?"  
"Well if that's what you want, I ain't gonna stop you!"  
"NO, you fucking moron!" Haruko pressed him harder into the wall. "It has to be perfect! I gotta be ready! It was perfect there! I was _ready!_ I'm never going to get an opportunity like that again!"  
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"  
"Some little shit keeps following me around and fucking up my plans!"  
"Well whose fault is that?"  
"Don't start that shit again!"  
"And why the fuck shouldn't-" Naota's words were cut off by Haruko's lips. His hands balled up in fists as he tried to stare through her eyelids. But he kissed back as angry and forceful as Haruko. She bit his lower lip, hard. Drawing back, she eyed him devilishly, and ran her tongue over his bloody lip. Her fingers danced around the buttons on his shirt, questionably. As if. As if it were ever a fucking question.  
He knew he was giving in, and she was getting the best of him even as he pushed her on the bed. But he did it anyway and they made hate on his bed.

The lights were out, Naota sat naked on the edge of the bed, staring into the indescribable vastness of space. A pint of whiskey in his hand, he toyed with a cigarette. Behind him, Haruko slept like a chaste angel after the round of intense angry sex like only she could.  
"Fuck it." Naota mumbled, and lit up. He had passed all kinds of limits today, the smokes were the least of his worries. No sooner as he took his first drag, a warm hand snaked around his waist and ran up his body. He moved his arm to reach for the pack of cigarettes and give her room. She plucked the cigarette from his lips, running a finger along the cut on his lip. Naota quickly replaced it with a fresh one.  
"What's the matter, lover? Can't sleep?" She asked.  
"Yeah. Lover, right." Naota snorted in a cloud of smoke. Behind him she sniffled.  
"My long lost love refuses to acknowledge me! OH cruel fate! He runs from our bed, refuses to even look at me as splay myself out for his pleasure! Why has my love forsaken me so!?"  
Naota let her ham it up, but she apparently was prepared to continue on her monologue. "Knock it off." He interrupted, hoping she didn't notice the small bit of dejection in his voice. She ceased her lamentations and returned to smoking his cigarette in silence.  
"I oughtta turn you in." He said, staring at the reflection of her cherry in the window.  
"You won't though." She stated.  
"I should. Prison might do you good." He opined.  
She laughed. "Prison? Hell, Takun, I'm a traitor. Ain't no prison to it. They'll put me against a wall and shoot me. But you won't let them do that to me, will you, lover?"  
Naota considered that for a second. "Getting shot might do you good, too."  
"You're a bit of an asshole, Takun." He heard her inhale deeply. He took a swig. When she exhaled, it brushed against the back of his neck, smoke curling about his ears. With out a sound she pressed her self against him, wrapping her legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders like she was expecting him to stand up and carry her around. "It looks good on you." She breathed directly into his ear.  
He silently held the pint up for her. She took a long swig and handed it back to him. She rested her chin on his shoulder, turned her head to look at his face. He told himself not to look but could tell she was smiling.  
"Oh, c'mon Takun. Smile. It won't hurt." She prodded. "You shouldn't be so serious all the time, it's bad for your health, ya know."  
Naota had nothing to say to that, so he didn't.  
"Man, do you even have fun anymore? Here you are, hurtling through deep space in command of your own destroyer, blonde bombshell naked in your bed and you can't even smile. You can't be that jaded yet."  
Naota's eyebrow arched in contemplation. Something about the body pressed against his, the openness of her body language allowed him to be honest. Especially since it was her body, the same body that had known him when he was a teenager, skin and bones and piss and pills. He swirled the pint in his hand and took a drink.  
"I don't need to, I guess. Doing this job, all the death and bullshit.. Nothing gets better if I smile." Something in the back of his head told him Haruko would instantly recognize his thousand yard stare.  
There was a moment of silence and Naota immediately regretted opening his mouth. He dropped his cigarette to the floor and lit two more, handing one behind him silently. He turned around this time, noticing a look of consideration on her face. Still nothing was said, and he tensed up involuntary. In response she leaned hard into him, chest and hips first.  
"Did you mean all that, before? About dying?" He asked.  
"We all gotta die someday, kid. I just want it to be on my terms. Fighting. Giving everything I got. Eyes open and on my feet, you know? Before I pass my prime."  
"Yeah.."  
"Or are you one of those peacefully in your sleep types?" She asked.  
"Apparently not, or I wouldn't be here."  
She moved her head a bit and nibbled his ear. "Baby, if you wanna be wild, you got a lot to learn." He said nothing and let her continue, his body beginning to react to her tongue, her breasts on his back.  
"What are you going to do if you do catch him? If you get Atmosk's power."  
"I dunno. Find something else impossible, then do that." She said.  
"Oh."  
"You need a vacation. Just me, you, and a borrowed destroyer." She said.  
"That simple?" He asked, staring at the light of a supernova out the window.  
"Yeah."  
Under interrogation he might admit he chuckled a little. "And then what?"  
"I don't know." She lied. "Does it matter?"  
"Probably not. But I don't know if I can trust you, Haruko"  
Her nails dug into his shoulders, but her voice remained soft. "Do you even know what you're fighting for?"  
"What?"  
"The Space Police, The Galactic Government. The first time you left Earth was with them. Do you know anything about the galaxy you're defending? Been anywhere but shit-holes? Ever had that freedom they talk so much about?" She asked.  
"I don't care about that. The ideas or politics. It's just a job. It keeps me moving, gives me an objective." He answered. She nodded.  
"I could show you. About being really free. And I guarantee I could get you to smile again." She said, stroking his chest. She leaned in to his ear and whispered. "You don't owe them a Godamn thing."  
Naota stared into the distance at the supernova. He couldn't handle all this at once. He needed to buy time to process his thoughts. He turned to her, looked into her eyes. They were.. confident. In him. Like they were part of a team.  
He kissed her. Softly. She put a hand on his cheek, and pulled him back in to bed by his shoulders, keeping one leg around him but giving him room to turn to face her.

A supernova starts as a massive star. Because of it's massive size it burns through its hydrogen fuel several orders of magnitude faster than smaller stars. It shown more brightly, but died young. When the hydrogen ran out, helium, the left over ashes of the initial burning, gathered at the core and ignited under the intense pressure. Then that fuel also runs out, not lasting as long as the hydrogen. The ashes of the helium burning ignite. And so it goes, through the elements. Carbon, Oxygen, Silicon. Each heavier fuel keeping the star safe from the relentless pressure of its own mass, its mass also being the only way it can keep burning these heavy fuels. The core resembles an onion, the element fueling the nuclear explosion that is a star getting heavier, and burning hotter and quicker, the closer to the center you get.  
Then there's nothing but iron in the core. Iron can't burn with only its own energy. The star is about to die, with only an inert lump at its heart. Being massive enough, producing enough energy, to die this way puts the star in a separate class from main sequence stars. The star falls in on itself at three quarters the speed of light. The same principle as a hydrogen bomb is in effect. A hydrogen bomb with 20 times the mass of the sun.  
The star rips itself apart as the collapsing shell converges at the center and explodes outward. In its death, this one star will out shine entire galaxies. The most violent event known to man. The shock wave will push interstellar dust together, forming new stars. Millions of years after its death, species that did not exist when the explosion happened will look up in awe as the light reaches them. What's left will become a black hole, so much mass in so little area the laws of the physics no longer apply to it. A place that nothing, not even a hint of what becomes, can return to the rest of us who have not crossed that threshold.

That's a supernova. That's what Haruko wanted.

And in the morning she was disappeared, just an imprint on the bed sheets. Naota was awoken by a knock on his door. He snagged a pair of jeans from his closet and answered to find the comm officer with a shit eating grin on her face.  
"Good morning, sir. The resupply vessel has detached and departed. Major Haruhara has departed with them." She reported.  
Naota thought about that sentence. Looked around to find the uniform that had been carelessly thrown around the room last night missing. "Major Haruhara." He muttered.  
"Don't worry sir, we won't tell." The comm officer winked.  
Naota sighed. "Thanks. Carry on."  
"So, how was it? I mean we all heard, but-" She got out before he closed the door. Naota sat down at his desk and poured himself a drink.  
"Well. Shit."

A few hours later, Naota's PDA lit up with a new message.

"Kid: We found something on that ship you we're asking about. Don't know what you're up to, but we approve. ;) - Ogre"

"The fuck?" Naota wondered, flipping to his sent messages. The last one sent out was a request for information on the _Jet Stream Wild_, sent when he was asleep. "Fuckin' Haruko" He opened up the attached file and read it over.  
It was a simple, to the point report. The _Jet Stream Wild _was transporting the crew of mutinous destroyer for trial. Three days from port, the ship went out of contact for 35 hours. When communication was reestablished, the crew reported the prisoners had revolted, and all had been killed in the ensuing riot. However, the duty radioman noted several out dated protocols in the message. The decision was made to leave the ship in orbit until the true fate of the crew could be discovered. That was five years ago, the only updates since then merely stated the matter was "pending investigation."  
Naota put down the PDA. While interesting, he didn't really care. Police or murderers, the crew did their job well and accepted him.  
The next day passed. Only a day out of their destination. Naota was inside his cabin, reviewing the intel he had on MM's supposed understanding of Atmosk's movements. A new file had appeared. An MM internal memo. One of their scientists, a Dr. Brunner, had been relieved of duty for an obsession with his pet theory about Atmosk. The brass was tired of hearing his warnings about the end of the galaxy, and considered him no better than a street corner preacher. He had retired to an unused weather station high in the planets atmosphere.  
Naota checked the source of the message. It was through Baby Cakes and Ogre's unofficial channel. If he was caught there by the government, he'd have a hard time explaining it. It wasn't worth it, not for the rambling of an deranged scientist. He checked his charts. The planet was in the backyard of a Space Police HQ.  
"Risky. Risky, risky, risky." He muttered to himself. He decided the most pertinent course of action would be to due the job assigned, then see what the word on the exiled Dr. Brunner was from his former colleagues.  
"Fuck it." He wasn't kidding even himself. He would go there first, Space Police be damned. He told himself of course it had nothing to do with Haruko's snide remarks.

The ship arrived on station. Destination was gas giant, almost twice the size of Jupiter. Naota stood on the bridge in a spare uniform he had found at the bottom of a seabag. He stared at the planet, stripped in cloud bands in various shades of red, rotating in alternate directions at 100 miles an hour.  
The main MM facility was at the equator, a large statistical modeling center originally purposed to understand the planets weather systems, now turned to advising MM's strategic long term goals.  
He asked that the coordinates for Dr. Brunner's Hermitage be brought up. It was in a strip of almost brown clouds halfway between the equator and south pole. The weather station was almost a thousand miles inside the could layer.  
At the corner of the view screen, a flash of light caught his eye. He order the view zoomed out. In plane with the station was a darkness creeping around the edge of the horizon, it's interior home to great flashes of light, like gunfire in a dark room.  
"Meteorology, what the fuck am I looking at here?" He asked, just in case he was wrong.  
"Storm, sir. Records show it's been going for the last two hundred years." Someone answered behind him.  
"And it's going toward the weather station, correct?"  
"Yes sir. Leading edge will be there in three hours."  
"How long will it take us to get there?" Naota asked, never taking his eyes off the screen, the streaks of lighting half the size of the Earth.  
"Two and a half." The bridge crew informed him.  
Naota drummed his fingers on his leg. Half hour window. Disappear under the storm, reemerge after it passed. No one would know.  
He turned to his XO. "Chief, pick up the stations positioning beacons and tell them to open up the hanger. Tell them we're weary travelers low on fuel if you gotta. We're landing."

Back in his cabin, Naota caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His uniform was a mess, Haruko had taken the only clean one he had. He checked his closet. Only his civilian clothes and his suit. He slapped the dust off the plastic bag around the suit and decided to break it out. He decided to shave his day and a half stubble in his pants and undershirt.  
Standing in front of the mirror he adjusted his black tie. Slipped his arms through his shoulder rig and tightened it to fit, the holster resting snug underneath his bicep. He checked the load in his revolver and holstered the piece before donning his jacket.  
It was strange. All his life he had hated the idea of a suit and tie's stagnation, but now that he was in one.. Well, it was just part of being a professional. He flipped his wallet open to reveal his badge, and stuck it in his breast pocket. The flask full of rye went in a waist pocket.

When the Jet Stream Wild landed, it's added weight sent the station drifting downward. The station would fall gently for ten miles before the density of the atmosphere balanced it out again. Lt. Nandaba gave the crew permission to stretch their legs inside the hanger, but warned them to be ready as soon as the storm cleared.  
He stepped out of the hanger, on to an open catwalk leading to the weather station. It was a decrepit old shack, rusted and looking ready to fall through in an instant. As soon as he stepped out of cover the wind began tearing at him.  
Naota first looked down. Saw only a deep field of rust red, swirling and eddying, filling his vision to a point of nausea. He wasn't seeing a wall of clouds, but a continuous stacking of gas on itself in a span of likely a thousand miles. A quick calculation gave him the figure that he would take over four hours to fall that far. And who knew how long till the air pressure became enough to crush him.  
Shaking his head as he walked, he decided to look up. Instead saw the same damn thing. To his left and right the red gave way in a slow gradient to the next cloud bands color. He stopped to get a hold of himself. The whole damn world looked like swirling rust and blood. God, he'd had wished he had drank more. Or less. One of the two.  
He looked over his shoulder to the hanger, and smiled. Behind him the world was a black, roiling cloud. It was a strange reference frame, but worked. The coming storm surged forward imperceptibly at five hundred miles an hour, flashes of light like artillery setting the sky on fire. Naota could feel his hair drawn toward the low pressure of the system, it reminded him of images he'd on Earth of far away lands and a wind called the Hurricane.

Naota lit up half way through the cat walk. He told himself that on a job the 5 a day limit didn't count. When he finally reached the weather station, he keyed the intercom button, halfway through his cigarette. The voice the came over was much younger than he expected. And much cheerier than an a man in a shanty about to blown down should be.  
"Hello, traveler! Glad I could be of service to you, these storms are no joke." The voice chimed in, in the weird mix of formal and anachronistic language scientists loved.  
"Can I come in? I'd like to thank you in person." Naota asked.  
"Of course! Come on in, young man. Just take a left and I'm the last room on the right!" With a buzz the door slid open. Naota considered dropping his smoke, but kept it. He had time before he got there, and the damn things cost money.  
The inside looked as bare as the outside. Rusted out walls, empty rooms. When Naota saw the end of the hallway approaching, he stubbed his cigarette out on his shoe . Before he walked in he took a swig of his flash. Better to give him confidence and make him charming.  
He gave Dr. Brunner time to absorb him, pausing in the door way. The doctor's eyes fell on his face, then the brass badge, then the suit, then his guitar.  
"Oh." He said, plainly. "One of them. Of course. I see."  
Naota slowly made his way to a chair opposite the scientist and sat down, swinging the Flying V around to cradle in his lap. As he moved, Naota noticed the man did not see him, he saw the Space Police he represented. But that was okay, that was his job.  
He began softly, trying to salve the blow of the false pretense. "Dr. Brunner. I'm Detective Lieutenant Nandaba. I'd like to ask you a few questions." The usual cop line.  
The scientist, so confident before, could only stare at his hands. "Yes, of course. I knew someone would come, but one of you.."  
"Don't bullshit me, doc, you knew the police would be on you." Naota said frankly. He could handle it diplomatically, but that wasn't honest of him.  
"Oh, yes. I knew. A cop would come. But a cop with a guitar..." He trailed off. Naota stayed silent and just stared at him. Interrogation 101. Sure enough, the doctor continued. "I've heard stories of you. The young men who carry guitars. I spent my life comfortably studying the world, and you people take it upon yourselves to change it."  
"Doctor, I know why you got removed from your position. And I'm willing to listen." Naota said, unsure of what group the scientist was lumping him into.  
"Yes, you would be the only ones. What do you want to know?" The doctor said, looking up from his hands.  
"How Atmosk will end life as we know it." Naota said simply, knowing he was speaking as a badge and not a person.  
"He will.. He will.. I know where he's going. He's strong enough now."  
"Doctor, I need you to stay focused."  
"Of course. Yes. He has enough power, he can take the black hole at the center of this galaxy."  
Naota quickly scribbled in his note pad. "And then?"  
"And then? No and then. He would remove the lynch pin that holds the galaxy together. And make that power his own."  
Naota sighed. "Doctor, it would take millions of years for the galaxy to drift apart. Tell me what he does after."  
The doctor stared at him. "You.. you are that confident? You can stop him?"  
"Anyone can be stopped. And I'll find the way." Naota said simply.  
To his surprise, the scientist smiled. "Yes. Yes you could. Young men who pick up the gun and the guitar could change it. Okay. Once he has the mass of the super massive black hole at the galactic center at his command, our equations predict he'll have enough power to take the Small Magellanic Cloud. Then the big one. Then the galactic bulge, then the disk. And then? He's gone, on to the next, likely Andromeda. And we'll be gone."  
"I see." Naota closed his notebook and slipped it back into his pocket. "And why didn't Medical Meccanica believe you, if this provable by your equations?"  
"They can't accept that we're in danger. That all of civilization could collapse because of one being."  
"Well," Naota stated, standing up. "I believe. And I'm willing to do what it takes to stop him. How long do we have until he appears at the black hole?"  
"Barely enough time for that ship you brought in to make it."  
Naota had already stuck the cigarette in his mouth as he was leaving. "All the time I need."

They were waiting for him when he stepped through the door in to the hallway. Two of them in Space Police uniforms, service automatics leveled at him.  
"Lt. Nandaba, we have a warrant for your arrest. Please surrender your firearm and come with us." The one closest to him said, taking a step forward and holding out his hand. Naota recovered from his shock and squared off to them, trying to think of something.  
"What charge?"  
"Aiding and abetting a known fugitive. Now please, your firearm.." The leader of the two repeated. The other stood behind him, eyes nervously flickering from Naota to the leader.  
"Shit." Naota muttered. He need to make a decision fast. Resisting would blow any chance he had of straightening things out. The first cop took another step forward, smooth, unworn palm up. But he did do what they accused him of.  
Suddenly, Naota knew what he was going to do. He unbuttoned his suit jacket. Something that had been festering in him a long time suddenly made sense. Something that was always there, was almost satisfied by leaping out of spaceships or making hate to Haruko  
He wouldn't shoot them. He would, however, take the gun from the boot in front of his and beat him half to death with it. He wasn't a fighter, but neither were they. If they were, they would of thrown him to the ground and took his gun themselves. What Naota was, however, was fucking vicious.  
Smiling reassuringly, he slowly drew his revolver from underneath his shoulder and held it up. With his left hand, he grabbed the wrist of the first cop's gun hand and yanked it past his hip. Blading himself, he slammed the butt of his gun into the cop's nose, then twice more about the head, his hand coming back slick with blood. With a sharp pull he sent the guy tumbling to the ground and moved on to the next.  
The last guy standing was tall, but too wiry to be a fighter at his height. Naota reached back as he moved, stepping aside the geometry of the goon's gun to slam a fist into a kidney. Unprepared, the officer bent forward and Naota saw his chance. He grabbed the guy by his collar and threw him to the ground. Keeping his hands on the guy's throat and his elbow keeping the gun away from his face, Naota took the guy to the ground and quickly got in the mount position.  
Even keeping the gun away from him he managed to get two hands on the goon's throat. He know enough to tell the difference between choked out and choked to death, and he would not kill in defense of his betrayal. Even as the officer slammed his non gun hand into Naota's face, he kept up the pressure. Let his face get ruined, he was going to win.  
As the officer's blows began to weaken, Naota closed in for the kill, his vision focused on his adversaries' eyes. Naota's arm slipped, and the officer managed to hit him in the chest twice. So hard it made Naota's ears ring.  
The cop's eyes rolled back in his head. And then he went limp. Naota kept up the pressure on the guy's cardioid arteries for a second, making sure he was out but not dead. Satisfied, and pleased to find he had clenched his cigarette in his teeth the entire time, Naota stood up. He turned to leave, fishing in his pocket for his lighter. As he stepped forward, his leg just disappeared. He hit the deck hard, struggling for breath, unable to think straight.  
Somehow he noticed the blood pooling from him, the shell casings on the ground. Sluggishly he brought his hand to his chest, and felt the two wet, jagged holes in his shirt right below his rib cage.  
"Oh." He managed.

Haruko threw open the door triumphantly. Instead of Naota in trouble like she expected, she beheld a scene of blood. Her eyes narrowed on Naota and his wounds.  
"Damn, Takun. You weren't supposed to die.." She muttered. She knelt over him to check his wounds. She could feel the air going into the holes in chest better than his breathing. "Damn, kid."  
She plucked his unlit cigarette from the floor before the blood soaked into it. If he hadn't of fallen on the side with the collapsed lung, he would have drowned in his own blood already. Sticking the cigarette behind her ear she wondered what to do.  
One the cops stirred behind her.  
"Huh? Thought you mooks were dead." She said. "Oh! Idea! I got this!" She sprang to her feet, smiling broadly. She reached into her boot and withdrew a straight razor. She laughed to her self. "Ol' Takun gonna owe me for this."  
She grabbed the first cop by the hair and tilted his head to expose his neck.

A few minutes of labor and she was done. Proud of her labors, Haruko beamed. She held her fingers up in a square to check the angles. Perfect. She moved Naota's limp form into the center of the star in the circle of blood. He was hanging on, but just. As she laid him down his flask tumbled from his pocket. She picked it up and stepped out of the circle. Taking a swig she surveyed her handiwork one last time. Satisfied, she called out to the air.  
"Fuck the bullshit. You know what I want and I paid your price. Just show up."  
Outside, the wind howled. A peal of thunder in a range too low to be heard almost shook the building apart. The lights went out. As the back up generators kicked in with a hum and the low power emergency lights turned on, the air filled with cigar smoke.  
Haruko turned to see the green eyed man leaning against the wall behind her. Without a word he uncoiled himself and walked to her side, cigar hanging from his mouth.  
"Got another, boss?" Haruko spoke first. He fished around in his suit and produced one. Haruko bit off the end, and plucked a string on her bass. The machine head for the E string produced a flame. She lit up and extinguished the fire with her fingers.  
"This?" The green eyed man asked, staring at Naota "You called me up for this? You lost your mind, Haruko?"  
"Spare me, spook. I did what I had to." She retorted.  
"Shit, is he even still alive? No one gets to come back, Haruko, you know that."  
"He's still there."  
The spook looked at her quizzically. "You sure you want this? It would be a lot easier for you if you didn't, his part is pretty much done anyway."  
Haruko shook her head. "Nah, it ain't. He's one of us, he'll figure it out eventually."  
"So say you. What's your end game here? You don't need him."  
"Neither do you, but you've taken an interest. I got faith in him, he'll figure out his own side."  
"If you say so. Well, the sacrifice seems to be in order. I'll do what I can. Rest's on you, and don't blame me when this bites you in the ass."  
"Noted." Haruko said as the generators came back online, dispelling the amber light to reveal the man gone and the roof ripped open. The wind roared through, smoking the cigar for her. Almost tenderly Haruko removed Naota's guitar from his back and placed it beside him. She lifted him from the ground by his collar.  
"Now.." She snarled at the uncaring sky. "GIVE ME BACK MY TAKUN!" She whipped him up and into the storm with all her might. Grinning in the electrical light of the storm she threw his guitar after him. At the apex of his flight, lidded eyes up turned to the storm, the Flying V struck him, piercing his heart.  
For a split second Haruko wondered if she'd be double crossed. Then the lightening cracked the sky in two, with Naota at its center, running from end to end of his guitar through his heart. In the deafening boom that followed Haruko could of sworn she heard a howl of rage.  
When the light died, Naota was still suspended in air. Half open, his eyes were a vale of hatred, unseeing. In a blink Haruko was in front of him. He didn't look up, so she reached out and cupped his face in her gloved hands.  
"Chu~." Was all she said, before she kissed him gently. Naota's eyes snapped open. Haruko smiled at him as she casually flung him one handed into the next thunder bolt.  
Haruko landed as a bolt of lightening struck in the center of the room. When it cleared, Naota stood in the middle of it, stained with his own blood. A wild fury shone in his eyes, his guitar in his hand. Without a word she took the cigarette from behind his ear and placed it into his hand. He used his own lighter and exhaled through his nose.  
"Owe me, Takun."  
"Nah, we're even. And it's Naota" He said simply, stepping off toward his ship. Smiling proudly, Haruko followed him through the shaking catwalk in the storm.

They emerged into the bridge of the _Jet Steam Wild_, tobacco still burning. With out a doubt in him, Naota barked. "Nav! Get us the fuck out of here toward the galactic center, now!"  
Haruko noticed, to their credit, that none of the crew, after meeting her as Maj. Haruhara, questioned seeing her in her riding get up or their captain covered in blood. That said something about the rumors. She settled into a quiet spot against the back wall as Naota took his place.  
"Sir.." Someone on a radar scope began, "The Galactic Navy has blockaded us. They have a perimeter established outside the storm. Three heavy cruisers, two battleships, and ten others."  
Naota only growled, his eyes still full of conviction. "Then load all guns. Anti-ship Thermobaric rounds."  
The crew smiled, knowing they were going into a fight. Naota smiled, knowing he was going to win. Haruko smiled, and said to her self. "You know what, Naota, you're alright after all."  
Naota crossed his arms and stated his aims clearly. "We're breaking through."


	9. The Last Pale Light in the West

The _Jet Stream Wild_ rose through the storm. The gales buffeted it from all sides, the deck pitched and rolled as the metal creaked. Naota stared at the display of the government forces aligned against them. "Standard cordon at 300 miles out, ships off set to avoid conflicting fields of fire." The ship's XO finished her briefing. Haruko stood in the back, watching it all. Naota's eyes flicked over the assembled ships.  
"Which has the longest range gun?" He asked, never looking down. Haroku moved to the side to get a better view of him as the XO ran down the technical aspects and pointed to a cruiser on the high side of the cordon.  
"Alright. Point us directly toward it. As soon as we clear cloud cover I want a visual image of the cruiser and the space off its port side. I want all guns pointed starboard and ready to fire at my command, manual tracking."  
"And then, sir?" Someone asked.  
"Then we put the whole damn thing behind us." He stated. The XO cleared her throat.  
"Sir, those ships will run us down in hours." She said.  
"No they won't." Naota said, turning to look directly at Haruko despite, as far she knew, ever looking at her since she moved. He fished under the engine control console and tossed her an input jack. "Still got your bass, right?" He asked.  
"I don't know what your talking about." She deadpanned. For a split second he almost smiled. She looked into his eyes.  
"Yes, you do. Be ready to go as soon as I say." He ordered, turning back to the view screen. Haroku didn't argue as she plugged in and walked to stand behind him, on the raised command deck. She observed it, measuring his response to the situation he found himself in.  
They broke the clouds. The view screen displayed a heavy cruiser and the space besides it. As soon as he saw the image, Naota closed his eyes, concentrated everything he had on holding the entire ship in an NO field.  
As the first muzzle blasts from the large ships reached them, he opened his eyes and pulled the ship through space. The starboard view filled with the massive iron slab of the cruiser's gun decks, only two hundred yards away.  
"FIRE!"  
Immediately the ship was rocked by the concussions of the blasts. The floor vibrated. Naota didn't wait for the target to go up in flames before turning to Haruko.  
"HIT IT!"  
And she played. She changed the laws of physics to her will and fed energy to the engines. Just like that they were gone, nothing but wreckage in their wake.

For three weeks they fought a running battle with the government on the way to the center of the galaxy. They were chased and ambushed. They sprinted away and dodged through gravity wells that only the guitars could take them through. They came in from behind moons and shelled comm stations. They passed the ruins left by Atmosk. They killed and were killed in turn.  
Through it all, Haruko watched Naota. He spent days on the bridge, commanding his ship. It was something new she hadn't seen in him, and it interested her. Lieutenant Nadaba, leader of men. His eyes were constantly moving, devouring every piece of information presented. There was a swirl of anger in them, but it would never truly touch him. His center remained calm, dispassionate.  
Haruko smoked his cigarettes and sipped on his booze and just watched. It wasn't until day three that he slept, and then only for a few hours. Within two weeks, after a stray shell hit the mess decks and caused the first fatalities, he was no longer Naota. He wasn't anybody. He was a machine that didn't care for food or comfort or anything human. Judgments of personality were suspended for judgments of skill sets throughout the ship.  
Sometimes she followed him back to his bed. Afterward she would examine him. Worn down until all the trappings of civilization had left him, naked next to an almost stranger, he seemed more than satisfied with his few hours of dreamless sleep. Like it was a wish he had no right to, but got anyway. And when there were no pretenses left, that said a lot about who he was. He swung the bat, after all. This was where he wanted to be. A shell could rip them both apart before he would wake up. He knew that and slept in peace; diffidently more peace that he felt in safety. It was interesting.

Atmosk arrived before them anyway. The first news reached them by way of planets being slightly off their orbits. The center of mass in the galaxy was shifting. A day later the radio transmissions started filtering in on civilian bands. Exactly as predicted, the pirate king was taking everything. Pressure from the government eased up instantly as all fleets were diverted to stop him. Hours later, despite the military cordon, videos appeared of the fleets destruction.  
An emergency broadcast ordered civilians to evacuate, giving a eighty hour time frame. The ships relativistic navigator spent four hours staring at the shifting gravitational patterns of the inner galaxy to conclude that eighty hours was a more or less accurate time frame to the complete capture of the galactic core. They would be in range in 23.

Twenty one hours left. The basic plan was in place. Naota would be back on the bridge in seven hours to make adjustments based on new information. He should be in bed, so he could be fully rested. Instead he was outside the trash room. He pushed the door open and looked in, expecting to send who ever was running it on a smoke break. But there was no one there. The causalities in the mess deck had left it unattended at night, he remembered.  
He pulled a up turned bucket up to a chair to serve as a table, and pulled his wallet out from his pocket as he sat down. He rifled through it, picking out cards and bills and placing them on the bucket. A 500 yen note. ID cards for school and country. Things he held on to for nostalgia, used to take out once in a while to help remember. He took off his watch too. It had broken a long time ago and he stopped caring about Earth time. He stopped and tried to figure out how old he was. Earth seemed like a lifetime ago, someone else's lifetime. He had no rough tally of days months or years to estimate. He felt old. Old enough to know he'd never be young again. Factor in time dilation from near light speed travel and he could have been anywhere from 20 to 2000 on Earth.  
So he lit a cigarette and tried to remember as much as he could, maybe his last time. Then he scooped his souvenirs up and dumped them in the incinerator. By the time he got back to his cabin he had forgotten what his town looked like.

Haruko was waiting for him when got in. She had already undressed and gotten in bed. He barely glanced at her, instead going for his desk and pouring a tumbler of whiskey. He took his shirt off and went to stand at the window. She watched him stand there for an hour, staring past his reflection, past the stars, past everything contained in life to a place beyond the edge of the expanding universe. Where there was nothing, no space, no time. A place that could only be said to exist with artistic license. Toward the end he smoked, tapping his ash on the floor and just dropping the butt.  
She had been born with it, but knew his expression well enough. He was making peace with death. Not in a general way, but in a 'In the next few hours and horribly' way. He lit another cigarette and turned around, tossing the pack to her. As she lit up, he laid down on top of the covers, pants still on and stared at the ceiling. It only took him an hour, it wasn't the first time.  
Not willing to be uninvolved in the situation at hand, Haruko pulled the covers off herself and laid down next to him, arm across his chest, looking down at him. His eyes slowly slid to hers.  
"You're gonna need me out there, kiddo." She said. He nodded.  
"Yeah, I know." He responded, cigarette resting in his lips.  
"You don't want Atmosk's power."  
"I ain't givin' it to you." He said simply.  
"You can't go back to the Space Police, Naota, they'll hang you as fast as they'd hang me." She said.  
"I know. Don't mean I'm on your side."  
"Well. You know what your going to have to do then, right?" She asked, a bit defensively.  
"Yeah. I know."  
"And you think you can do it?"  
"Yeah."  
Despite herself, she smiled. "I know. You could always swing the bat." She grinned down at her prey and flicked away her cigarette. He only stared back. When his hand went over the edge of the bed to tap the ash away she grabbed it, using her leverage to hold in in place and placing her other hand on his bicep. She kissed him and when their lips parted smoke poured out of both their mouths.  
When they were done, Naota only laid there for a few minutes. Last chance for sleep or to even relax until the fight was on. He got up and got dressed in his only blood free clothes. An undershirt, jeans and work boots. He looked over his shoulder, as he opened the door. "We gotta be on the bridge in three hours." He said, knowing she heard.

The plan was simple. The ship would drop them off on the nearest planet that had a good view of where Atmosk hung in the sky. The ship would take up position in space, leaving them on the surface with just two crate amps and a radio. Once the ship was clear they would plug in and play. They'd alter the universe anyway they could to stop Atmosk. Increase the force needed to steal mass, change the fundamental forces. Maybe turn relativity on itself and change the flow of time to pull stuff out of his head. They had so little idea how Atmosk worked they would be doing it all on the fly, with no way to know if they could even win.  
By an unspoken agreement they hadn't discussed what would happen after that. But when he got a second away from Haruko, Naota got his snub nose and stuck in his belt. When he next saw her she had changed to full riding get up, with the notable addition of a mare's leg pistol in a leather holster strapped to her left thigh, the buttplate extending just past the hem of her jacket.

The _Jet Stream Wild_ set them down in a field, hovering ten feet above the ground as they lept out. They bent down and covered their necks as the exhaust beat down on them. The heat and pressure abated as the ship pushed itself back into an escape trajectory.  
Standing up they got their first impressions of the place. A dirt road ran behind them into the trees, as the fumes blew away the faint breeze brought a whaft of spring's false promises. Ten minutes. Ten minutes until the ship was clear. They checked the amps, tuned the guitars with out plugging them in. Naota stretched and they both smoked one last.  
"Hey, Naota" Haruko said, sitting on her amp, arm resting over the neck of her bass, cigarette smoldering.  
"Yeah?" He asked, staring off into the distance, guitar still on his back.  
"Do you hate me?" She began. "For what I did to you, dragging you into into this." She didn't look at him but didn't look away either.  
Naota exhaled his smoke slowly, looked down. "Yeah." He ran his boot over the grass. "Maybe." He sighed. "No. No I don't. I wanted this, would of done it myself eventually. And if you never came to Earth, who knows who I'd be now or what he'd think."  
She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "And who do you hate?" He only looked at her. "I heard it in your voice." She smiled. "Can't fool me, Takun."  
He couldn't help but laugh softly. "I.. That other me, I guess. As much as this way of life sucks, there's an honesty to it. Anyone who never sees it, who lives a life with out.. where death and killing ain't everyday things.. they're just lying to themselves about how life works, even if they outrun it their whole lives. And that's their right. But it's our right to hate them, you know?"  
"You're alright, you know that?" She said, smiling to her self. She stood up and plugged in. "C'mon, let's fuck this pig."

They stood side by side, guitars strapped across their chests. In front of them, hung in the over dense field of stars was a single red shape, barely distinguishable as a bird. The matter accreting into its head glowing as it compressed and heated around him. Naota was starving and on the verge of throwing up and where he needed to be. Haruko kept smoking as she hit the first note. She always initiated it.  
It was a simple bass line, but a few flourishes and she made it hers completely. Naota closed his eyes, listening, learning her rhythms, her personal touches. He felt her playing in gut and began to tap his hand on his guitar in time with her until he could anticipate when she would break off into sixteenth notes. He placed his left on the neck, took a pick in his right. Took one last drag as Haruko finished her solo effort, wedging his smoke under the strings on the head stock between the nut and machine heads.  
And then he started playing. Slow at first, to match her smoky beat. Then slowly speeding up, to give her time to adjust to him. His foot still tapped out 4/4s, he played simple notes until he was sure she caught up. She plucked the strings softly, letting him take control. He brought the simple progression down lower, and there was a moment when they were perfectly in sync and he could see it in her face as she closed her eyes and began to nod.  
With her backing he began to bend notes, to build individual melodies of ten or so notes while she kept the rhythm. They made brief eye contact and it was now or never. He dragged his finger across the frets and bent the G string in the high end of the fret board, right palm working the whammy bar. Haruko just bit her lip and muttered approval through a cloud of smoke.  
He took his fist off the scratch guard to strike the first chord of the night, a simple rhythm slower but fuller than before, the flying V lazily bouncing off his hip. Haruko inhaled deeply, striking a long held note, her finger wavering on the fret board to give it all extra flavor, Rickenbacker held tight to her.  
The bridge was simple, giving both parties ample room to improvise, taking charge and following by turn, wasting time, enjoying it before the serious work. Somewhere in this she turned, and he must have noticed and turned too because they were almost back to back, brushing each other. He leaned back one high bent note and their shoulders touched. She evened out and met his upper body with her own and they were square to each other like duelists. Naota gave up chords and began to play progressions on the tenth and twelfth and thirteenth. He felt the warmth of her back and began to lean into her. She straightened her legs and pressed shoulders and hips against him. He responded in kind, head still bent over his guitar, enjoying the heat from her body.  
The bass became a subdued rhythm as Naota played soft and low, muting his notes with the palm of his hand. Slowly, slowly he gained intensity. Becoming louder, the guitar banging off his hip hard enough he would be distracted, but he was about his work. Her hips grounded against him with the increasing tempo. Her bass had slipped down around her shoulders to hang below her belt line where her hand ran in time with him. Not that it was his time or hers but something independent of them both born of the moment and gone forever when it was over.  
He ran his hand up his face and through his hair, the sweat sticking it up where it was. She titled slightly so that the head of her bass collided with his guitar. He accommodated as the neck of the bass caught with the underside of the flying V's neck. His well worn finish sliding along her impossibly pure blonde. Her body sliding up and down his in time to their mutual expression. Both heads lolled back and she breathed in his ear and up his neck stirring the sweat soaked short hairs there. His head rolled off hers, brown hair sticking to pink, till ear met ear.  
His heel slamming the ground now in 1/16ths, he leaned back and pressed everything he had against her and it seemed as if his jaw unhinged and he yelled something beyond primal and she met him in higher pitch but in every fury, in that second their bodies and souls were moving faster than ever possible and in strict accordance with what ever convent was made at the dawn of the species between man and woman.

Panting, Naota plucked his smoke from the strings and took a long drag on what was left. Haruko's was cold and she dropped it. But when his eyes adjusted it appeared to have worked. The king in crimson filled a quarter of the sky, his roar cutting through the deafening ring in Naota's ears. The wind began to pick up, tearing through the grass and pulling the cottonwoods into unnatural angles. Atmosk wasn't getting closer, he was pulling the planet to him. The wind tore at his clothes and he unplugged his guitar before the amp went flying off into space.  
A flash of movement caught his eye and he turned to see Haruko raising her bass high above her head. She slammed it into the ground and felt everything move beneath his feet. She may of said something but he didn't hear it over the wind and then her piece of ground just broke free and began accelerating toward Atmosk.  
He swore and grabbed on to the next chunk of rock start lifting off. It was barely the size of his head and could barely keep a grip but less mass meant greater acceleration. He would let go but then he'd have nothing to change his direction with out maneuver the void that was Atmosk. He had not a clue what he was doing but he could improvise and he had to beat Haruko in any case.  
There was a chunk of matter ahead of them both and Naota let go and felt himself ripped forward, past Haruko he slammed int it, barely managing to hold on and screaming as the deceleration almost ripped his arms from their sockets.  
No sooner than he had latched on than Haruko shot past in the same manner, with such grace you'd think she was born in this environment. He only saw a glint of light that could be a place to land before he let go. She had turned back when he released, in tune with something and hand flying to her side. He felt the bullet slide past his head. He tore around the turf, getting it between him and her and leaping away.  
Any pretense of atmosphere was gone now, his sweating gasps bringing in no air. Only one more reason to go faster than he could manage. In that manner they raced through the wreckage of a holocaust they had helped to create and solely brought to this place. He edged himself on, knowing to fall behind would leave him and the galaxy as dead as over extending himself.  
He hit the last rock in sight, not even of the planet anymore but some stray wandering satellite that happened to be in the way. He looked to Haruko, where she crouched fifty yards behind him. She must have better eyes than him, for she took her time, getting in a good position with the forestock of her piece resting on her off elbow. He wasn't worried. The lack of normal gravitation would throw off the elevation of the sights and there was no backdrop to properly index her shots. He could see her clear. The pink hair, pale skin. Golden eye he'd envisioned so much as a youth looking into his soul behind the lens of the pistol's sights. Then the whole mirage exploded in burning powder and a slug ground through their artificial atmosphere like a pale comet and buried itself in his thigh.  
He screamed and held on for a instant. Buried his face in the dust of that place he clung to. And he knew she was working the lever and would not miss again. There was nothing to move forward to and to stay would be to fixed by fire and die. So he let go and flew towards whatever void with out name that was Atmosk, snatching the navy issue revolver at his back.  
He pointed it perpendicular to his travels in the orientation of the bird's feet and fired twice. With little room to spare it got him clear of what ever force caused his acceleration and a third shot got him spinning so conservation of angular momentum kept him on a course for the chain that rattled in the pirate king's nose. Tiny goblets of his blood floating about him like crimson moons his feet slammed into Atmosk's beak and his hand gripped the chain. Before his wounded leg gave out he ripped the chain back with all his might.. The whole damned thing exploded in his face.

The first thing he did was tie his belt around his leg as a tourniquet. He ripped the sleeve of his shirt off at the seam and ripped it down the middle and jammed the cotton in his wound. He did the same to his other sleeve and tied it around his leg to keep the make shift gauze in place. The bullet had missed the bone and artery.  
He pushed himself to his feet and looked around. It looked like he was inside a great stone tower. Torches burned on the walls. If he had to guess where he was, it would be wherever the human part of Atmosk was. Tentatively he got to his feet, leaning hard against the wall. Sucking breath through his teeth he started climbing, try to keep weight off his wounded leg. He kept an eye on the door below him, revolver in hand. He had no idea if Haruko would show up.  
He moved looking forward to see how far was left. Then he looked down so he didn't. Eventually he looked forward again. He blacked out but kept moving, blood swilling in his boot. Then he was in front of the door at the top. He pushed himself up right. It hurt like hell, but it was almost over now. It was just a door, it belonged on any anonymous house in the galaxy but here it was in the tower. There was light underneath it and he heard something move inside.  
Naota raised his gun and blood filled boot in the same motion and slammed his wounded leg into the door. He staggered in seeing a fireplace, a table, Atomsk. Naota shot him in the chest. He didn't get a second shot off before the gun was knocked from his hand and he desperately grappled with Atmosk. Naota caught him off balance and with all he could muster threw him to the ground. His guitar was already in Naota's hands and he raised it above his head and brought it down as hard as he could.

Naota limped out of the room, pistol and guitar in each hand. He set the guitar down and sat down on the top step next to it, pulling his bad leg out to rest straight. He lit a bent dick cigarette from the crumpled pack. He cringed as he reached into his pocket for his spare rounds. He reloaded his piece and stuck in back in his belt. Then he pulled the Flying V onto his lap and started to rub the dark stain out of the finish with his shirt. It didn't all come out. He hoped he could get the rest later. He felt good about it now, but didn't know about later.  
He looked through the busted down door behind him. Beyond the body on the floor was another door. The door Haruko wanted. He sighed and slung the guitar before he stood up. He still had to go all the fucking way back down.

She found him twelve hours after he disappeared. The explosion that had been the end of Atmosk had almost destroyed the ship, but they had been able to track the one piece of matter that made it out.  
They encountered him in hilly wooded country, walking along abandoned rail tracks. They reached him at sunset, the ship hovering just off the ground across a field from him. Haruko ran to the forecastle deck. She stood silhouetted by the downing sun, grin stuck on her face. Down below, he turned to look at her. He seemed something from the dark mists of time, caked in dirt, sweat and blood in torn rags. And she yelled back a question she meant this time.  
She could see perfectly in the light the implication dawn on him. Saw the open boy he was somewhere in there. Then she watched his face break and the last of who was die. The wasted years between then and now crashed down and a hurt and confused kid crystallized into a lost and angry man.

And then he turned and walked away.


	10. (Epilogue) Smashing the Guitar

A/N: Here it is, the end. Thanks for sticking around, or if your new thanks for reading. If you have any questions or comments drop me a line and I'll do my best to get back to you. Again, thank you for reading.

The morning, its foggy dew, hung tight to the ground, obscuring the sunlight that still remembered its dawning. The girl with the purple hair walked through it on the sidewalk. Preceded by the fast-march of their tribe's war songs, a formation of soldiers appeared marching down the avenue. Well pressed uniforms and insignia, the rifles at shoulder arms and childrens' faces gave them away as recruits. An old woman on the other side of street shook a fist at them, yelling for them to go on home, the bastards.

The recruits betrayed their experience by adhering to discipline and not even a glace went her way. Two well dressed men instead shouted her down, demanding the old biddy go home, shoving her around. Eri lowered her head and powered on. Better not to be involved, climate what it was.

She crossed the street to make her turn along side the green. A block later a shape loomed out of the fog, disturbing the normal lines of the stone bench she saw everyday. A strange curiosity came over her, and she stopped to exam it.

At first it appeared as just another street person, one whose tale in happier times would be worth a flung coin without eye contact. Now he was just another young man fleeing the war. He wore work boots, ratty jeans. A leather jacket over a T-shirt. He slept on his side, right hand clutched around something inside his jacket. Eri had no delusions about what that meant. He used a guitar's gig bag as a pillow, and one leg was stuck out at an unnaturally stiff angle The edge of a tattoo peeked out of his collar up the side of his neck, partially obscured by his shaggy hair.

She didn't realize she had stopped walking to examine him until she caught his blue eyes looking into hers. Behind, the morning sidewalk traffic ignored her. The eyes. There was nothing there. Flat as a still pond, there were no indication of a human being behind them.

With a slight hitch of breath, Eri turned and walked on. In an instant she had known all she needed about the man. Like a classical dome, his very being was built around what wasn't there at the center. But still.

If she hadn't found the old year book a week ago she would of never made the connection. The vagrant was his spitting image. But her namesake, Grandma Ninmori, had died years ago. Before humanity spread to other worlds. Before that pink haired woman and her awful civil war. And that man was no more than a hard lived twenty six. She remembered the page perfectly, a memorial to a student that disappeared with out trace. And in her grandmothers orderly handwriting on margins had been a simple statement on his name.

She looked back to see a cigarette glowing above him as he faded into the fog like a dream. 'Naota' the annotation had said. 'Naota for honesty.'

"It's all right, man  
I'm only bleeding, man  
Stay hungry, stay free  
And do the best you can"

The Gaslight Anthem – We're Getting a Divorce, You Keep the Diner


End file.
